They Shall Be as Gods
by Drosoph1la
Summary: What happens after the Resistance is down to their last handful of fighters and Kylo Ren's ascension to Supreme Leadership of the First Order? What is it that connects him to Rey, the scavenger from nowhere?
1. A Bad Start

**I. A BAD START**

* * *

 **1.**

 _Like the legend of the Phoenix  
All ends with beginnings  
What keeps the planets spinning  
The force from the beginning._

 _DAFT PUNK – Get Lucky_

With an unfamiliar feeling of melancholy, Rey watched the last of the ships leave, carrying Commander D'Acy and Chewbacca to their homeworlds Warlentta and Kashyyyk respectively, and become an increasingly little dot on the horizon. Only she, Finn, Rose and the droids were left in the – well, anyone calling it a 'base' would also try to sell you a holiday package to Jakku with the slogan ' _Experience the Magic of the Desert_ '. It was nothing more than a camouflaged hangar in the empty wastes of Tatooine, not even a proper 'hangar', but rather a deserted moisture barn, and it was only camouflaged because so much sand had blown over the sides and roof that it was impossible to detect from the air.

Everybody who was anybody had left in order to recruit additional support and troops as well as acquiring new ships. Only Finn and she didn't know _anyone_ they could have asked for either, and Rose was still recovering from her injuries.

Once the little freighter was well and truly out of sight, she cast her eyes to the dunes in front of her, which reminded her an awful lot of those on Jakku. She had travelled all over the galaxy, only to end up pretty much where she had started…

But that was _rubbish_ , and faintheartedness not part of her make-up. She rubbed her hands and went back to her principal task, which was the repair of the _Millennium Falcon_. It had suffered a good deal, by TIE-fighter missiles, rockfall, and lastly a graze from the _Finalizer_ itself. If Chewbacca hadn't hurled them out of harm's way in the very last second, that one shot would have been the end of the Resistance. As it was, it had only ripped off half of the left flank cladding, so Rey had spent most of the last days roaming the desert around them, looking for possible spare parts, or rather: objects that could be made into spare parts. So far, her best bet were some corrugated iron huts she had spotted a dozen miles to the South. She had begun to dismantle these and drag them piece by piece through the desert; transporting them to the hangar was nothing if not hard work, given that her only means of transport was a rickety little glider with all the oomph of an asthmatic Porg.

It really _was_ just like back home.

x X x

 **2\. Face/Off**

 _When I am king, you will be first against the wall  
With your opinion which is of no consequence at all  
What's that?  
What's that?  
…You don't remember  
You don't remember  
Why don't you remember my name?  
Off with his head, man_

 _RADIOHEAD – Paranoid Alien_

There were times when he really missed his mask and very often, these moments occurred when he was in the same room like General Hux. The new possibility to wordlessly sneer at the man was no compensation for being able to disguise boredom, disdain, confusion or, worst of all, total lack of comprehension. Kylo Ren was no soldier, had never gone through the ranks, and had only a basic working knowledge of military technology. He knew he was as unfit to lead an operation like the First Order as he was to conduct the Coruscant Symphonic Orchestra and should have been happy to delegate that task to such an eager proxy – just that he wasn't. Quite the opposite. His dislike for the General was deeply rooted, as old as their acquaintance, and Hux returned the compliment with interest. Even _now_. Damn it. How often did you have to choke a man until he respected your superiority?!

"It really is the most efficient method," Hux finished a long-winding monologue over the necessity to bomb the city of Nevo Kall wholesale in order to take out six to eight people.

Kylo cast him a deliberately unimpressed glance.

Hux frowned. "Uh – that's it, all in all."

Kylo kept up the stare.

Hux's frown deepened. "Did you hear anything I said?"

"I did. And I'm waiting."

"Waiting for what?"

Kylo shook his head in exasperation and made a small gesture with his hand which threw Hux against the wall behind him, together with the chair he had been sitting on.

"Sooner or later you _will_ learn to address me as 'Supreme Leader', General. I am sure of it. Because otherwise, I will break every single bone in your body."

"Yes, sir. I mean – Supreme Leader. Forgive my – it is still a little unfamiliar." He freed himself from the rubble of what had been his chair, got up and straightened his uniform. "Oh, and one more thing, Supreme Leader…"

"What!"

"We have reason to believe that the leader of the Resistance is presently in Nevo Kall."

There it was again, the dire necessity of a damned mask! He felt Hux's close scrutiny (and was impressed despite himself; only fifteen seconds ago the impertinent man had still been lying in a heap on the floor!) and hoped against hope that his face wouldn't give away his reaction to that particular bit of news.

"Shouldn't you have started your little list of reasons to lay waste to that place with this item?" he growled.

"I wasn't sure how you'd take it," Hux said slyly, then added in great haste, "Supreme Leader."

"Oh? And might I inquire why?"

"Because she's y- because General – Organa…?" He gave himself a little shake. "I'm sorry. I know that the Supreme Leader – Supreme Leader Snoke, I mean – prohibited the use of this name. Does that still stand?

Grateful for the sideshow, Kylo entered into the spirit of the conversation. "Organa? Surely not. I never heard of that prohibition."

"Well, let us call her the leader of the Resistance for simplicity's sake. And seeing your personal relation to her, the topic seemed rather delicate."

"My personal relation to the leader of the Resistance, General…?"

Hux had enough. "For goodness' sake, let's make no more bones about it, shall we? She's your mother! There, I said it. Are you happy now?"

Another blast sent him into the same wall. "When _will_ you learn, General?" Kylo got up and walked past him. Without turning around, he added, "And given my _personal relation_ as you call it, I will take care of her myself. Call the attack off."

"Yes, sir. Supreme Leader," Hux moaned from the floor. "But –"

You had to hand it to the man, he was unstoppable. "But _what_?"

"Is that wise, Supreme Leader?"

"You question my wisdom, General…?"

"Not at all, Supreme Leader. I merely wish to relieve you of a task that you may consider – difficult."

An unwilling spark of admiration sputtered in Kylo as he contemplated the man still lying on the ground as some blood from a head wound slowly trickled onto the collar of his uniform. The sheer stubborn determination of this guy!

"Have you forgotten that I did my father the same service?"

"Neither have I forgotten that the Supreme Leader – your predecessor – thought it had weakened you considerably. Supreme Leader."

Well, that was what patricide did for you, Kylo thought while staring at his subordinate in sheer loathing, only to realise something he hadn't known about Hux, or come to that, Captain Phasma.

With one swift move fuelled by disgust he brought a part of the ceiling down on Hux. "You have your orders, General," he snarled as he turned on his heel and marched out.

Why, _why_ had he allowed himself to be goaded into destroying his mask! On his way back to his quarters, he was positive that every single Stormtrooper eyed him curiously from behind their own helmets (how he envied them). Just as certain was he that his face was scarlet with anger and sheer bloody embarrassment.

When he had finally sealed the door to his rooms, he threw himself onto his cot, knuckling his eyes forcefully and groaning. This could not continue under any circumstances. Not only the Hux situation – which was dire enough in itself, but at least theoretically resolvable. Damn the man, but he was a darned good soldier and strategist, the best the First Order had. Still, one could have replaced him with someone else, perhaps less capable, but hopefully less odious. But Hux really was only the tip of the iceberg.

To be quite frank, ruling the galaxy had never much figured in Kylo Ren's personal agenda. He knew that even as an infant, General Hux had dreamt to become the new Emperor, whereas the idea had never ever occurred to Kylo until that dreadful day two weeks ago. As things were, one of the two reasons he had taken the job on was so that _Hux_ wouldn't get it. Because talented tactician filled to the brim with ambition as the general assuredly was, he would have made everything far worse than it was anyhow. (The second reason was of such private nature that he wouldn't have admitted it even to himself.)

Why had he joined the cause in the first place? Easy. He had wanted to destroy the Republic, the Resistance, and as Snoke's apprentice learn to become as mighty in the Force as his grandfather had been. He had accomplished most of this – the Republic was in ruins, the Resistance consisted of no more people than fitted into the _Millennium Falcon_ and he had become as powerful as Snoke had been willing to let him be. Shouldn't he feel at least a morsel of satisfaction?!

To the contrary, he felt rotten. Absolutely rotten. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he had felt less content – and he had never been a bundle of joy to begin with.

And with the Resistance down to their last dozen, he finally could no more avoid the biggest problem of all.

He sneered, remembering Hux's discomfort speaking her name. Princess Leia of Alderaan (another planet that was no more), General Organa, Senator Solo (that senate didn't exist any longer either), the leader of the Resistance – to him she had always been Ama plain and simple. After she had sent him away to train with Luke, he had made a point of calling her 'Mother' instead – a childish manoeuvre to make it clear he was a child no more. _Let the past die, kill it if you must_ – that was all very well, he was truly convinced of it, but it hadn't taken his father's death (yes, alright! Murder!) to realise that his mother was something else.

'Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose', Jedi wisdom had it (obviously, these guys had been insane, no wonder they had perished). He had tried for years and years to let go of his parents, and at times succeeded far enough to convince himself he didn't even miss them – they had never ever really been there anyway, had they! But it had been nothing but wishful thinking. All his father had needed to say was 'Come home, we miss you' and his son had been on the verge of tears, ready to throw years of training overboard for one sentimentality worthy of a cheesy greeting card. His training – _programming_ , he sneered in self-loathing – had won the day, he had managed to overcome hesitation, love, basic human decency, had managed to kill his own father, and what had been the end of it? Not liberation, but utter devastation.

Only two weeks ago, he had sat in his TIE-silencer, the command bridge of his mother's ship in his crosshairs, his finger on the trigger – perfectly unable to press it. The horror when he had seen someone else make the hit, the shock of thinking she was dead, the horrendous grief that had only lessened once he had grasped that she wasn't, a day or two later! A _lot_ had changed since then, but the one crucial bit had not – he could not kill his mother, he could not, he couldn't bear the thought that something should happen to her.

 _Why_ couldn't she just give up?! Oh, of course, because she was _Leia_ , no matter the title or position. The Republic, and the Senate, and the wars, and nowadays the Resistance – this wasn't just her life, it was _her_. Even as a mother, these things had always come first for her. Even the bedtime stories she had told him had been about her father – scratch that, the man she had then _claimed_ to be her father, the oh-so-honourable Senator Bail Organa – and his quest to restore the Old Republic, and the Jedi, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, revered Jedi master who had trained Luke Skywalker – and all but killed Kylo's _real_ grandfather, as he had later learnt. Much, much later. For goodness' sake, they had actually named their only child after that guy!

All these lies! Everyone had been lying their asses off, most of all his Ama. On the one hand she had preached to him about goodness, liberty, justice, _honesty_ – while on the other she had twisted the truth in whichever way had suited her best, _if_ she had been home to begin with. Otherwise he had been left in the tender care of C-3PO. A _droid_. What mother would have her child raised by a _machine?!_ Okay, C-3PO was alright. A pain in the butt most of the time, but somewhat sweet. But unfortunately also the galaxy's biggest fan of the Skywalker clan, and equipped with a memory chip containing every major (and minor!) victory of the Republic, old and new, and no qualms to repeat them word for bloody word.

But he had always felt different, that he had no place in all this, that there was something in him that wasn't goodness and sweetness and light. Knowing that he was in fact Darth Vader's grandson might have helped, of course. Instead of coming clean though, they had doubled up on the brainwashing, eventually sending him away to stay with Luke, of all people. The worst liar and hypocrite of them all.

A subtle shift in the perfect silence of his room, the sound of a light going on so to speak, permeated his gloomy thoughts. He lowered his hands which had still covered his eyes and turned around in surprise that was, in spite of himself, almost pleasant. He even forgot that he was ragingly mad with her.

His opposite number clearly shared all the surprise and none of the pleasure. She scowled at him and barked, 'Oh dear me _no_. Leave me alone!'

'I wasn't –'

'I wish you would stop this. It's no use!'

Why was he always on the defensive with this woman?! 'I'm not doing it!'

'Well, neither am I, and _I_ know _I'm_ not a liar.'

That one hit home hard. He had a whole collection of bad qualities, but he had never been dishonest. Never. 'Not _once_ have I lied to you,' he growled.

She changed tack with the speed of light. 'Oh no. That's the one bad habit you steered clear of.'

He rolled his eyes. 'Well, there were no other good habits left after _you_ had snatched them all up.'

'They'd be wasted on you. What would the _Supreme Leader_ of the _First_ _Order_ –' she spat out the words as if they were venom, '– need them for! What good would mercy, or justice, or a sense for right and wrong, do the ruler of the galaxy!'

'Interesting. When you had the chance to instil all that into the actual ruling of the galaxy, you scoffed at it.'

' _And_ we're back at square one. This conversation is _over_.'

'If only it were!'

Since there seemed nothing else either of them could do about it, he rolled over while she turned her back on him. Seething with anger, he marvelled at the nerve of that woman. The last time they had met, he had just killed his master in order to save her bloody life – and had he got as much as a plain ' _thank you_ ' for his troubles? You betcha he had not! As a matter of fact, she acted as if _he_ had done _her_ some personal injury!

He was aware of her lingering presence for another couple of minutes, until the apparition finally faded away and he was left to himself, filled to the brim with fury, and frustration, and the depression he had had to start with, and something else which he had no name for.

x X x

 **3.**

 _There's never been a true war that wasn't fought between two sets of people who were certain they were in the right. The really dangerous people believe they are doing whatever they are doing solely and only because it is without question the right thing to do. And that is what makes them dangerous._

 _MR. WEDNESDAY – American Gods_

"So what does the Supreme Leader make of it?" Captain Phasma, for once not wearing her helmet, asked.

"Don't call him that."

"Well, he _is_ the Supreme Leader, and you'd better remember it."

She watched him pressing a cool-pack against the back of his head. His eyes were blood-shot, which added another shade of red to his scarlet complexion and gingery hair, not to mention bloody scratches all over his face.

"He only usurps that position because he's got that trick of choking the living daylights out of you if you do as much as look at him."

"Or tell him he was a bit soft," she said drily.

"He is!"

"How soft was that wall he crashed you into?"

"How can we get rid of him, _that's_ the question you should ask yourself."

"The usual way?"

They both contemplated the possibility of poisoning the man, like they had poisoned a whole list of people on their way to the top. General Hux would never make the mistake to accept a drink offered to him by his only confidante, and vice versa. When they met, they both brought their own bottles.

"Do you think it would work? With him being – you know – _him_?"

She shrugged and took a swig. "Does the Force enable him to sniff out poison, you mean? I don't know. As a matter of fact, there's a whole lot I do not know about the Force. Before I met the Supreme Leader – and him – I didn't even believe it existed."

The late General Hux on the other hand had always made his son wary of what he had called 'an outmoded religion'. Unfortunately, he hadn't thrown in too many useful details to pad the lecture up.

"It might be worthwhile to make ourselves more familiar with the concept," he said pensively.

"Look it up, you mean? What if he finds out?"

"How would he?"

"Oh, that mindreading parlour trick he does on occasion would certainly help."

"You read it up, then. He doesn't bother _you_."

"There's still the ship logs."

"He doesn't care for technology if it's not built into his precious TIE-fighter."

"But our technicians do, and there are a whole lot of them who practically idolise him."

"Idiots!"

"No, the finest and brightest minds of the First Order, as a matter of fact."

"Not you too!" he groaned.

"I don't idolise him. But only because he's soft and has the temper of a Rathtar, I won't discard his power with the Force either. That would be foolish. But coming back to my original question – what _does_ he make of the _Supremacy's_ progress?"

"Nothing. I haven't told him yet, and I'm not sure I'm going to. I mean – you'd think he'd _ask_ , wouldn't you?"

She laughed, half incredulous, half admiring. "You're keeping secrets – military secrets – from our Supreme Leader?"

"It's not even that. As I said, he doesn't give a damn. If it had been up to _him_ , there'd still be the Hosnian system."

Captain Phasma laughed harder. "Damn the man!"

Hux cast her an accusing look. "Yes, exactly. Didn't I mention how we got into that whole knock-me-senseless thing in the first place? I told him his bloody mother was in Nevo Kall."

"But she isn't."

"No, but he doesn't know that, does he? I just wanted to see how he'd react."

She pointedly glanced at his injuries. "And you got yourself an answer."

"You may say it was worth it. At least now I know. We'll leave Nevo Kall alone, and carry out the other strikes as planned without his interference."

"You are a brave man, Armitage Hux, I'll give you that."

She had meant it quite sincerely, but he took her words as mockery and his anyway red face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. "Listen, I've got a bloody war to fight here against fanaticised opponents, with limited resources and a leader not worth the name, whom I suspect to be an actual traitor to our cause and who shrinks back from taking out his mother even though she's the damned root of all evil. If you have a better idea, I beg you to share it!"

She raised her hand in a soothing gesture. "The plan is _fine_. But if I were you, I'd make sure I was at the other end of the galaxy when he's informed of its success."

x X x


	2. End of a Legend

**II. THE END OF A LEGEND**

* * *

 **1.**

Rey had managed to repair the _Millennium Falcon_ to the best of her abilities, but the first test runs weren't entirely satisfactory. The old freighter's steerance appeared to have suffered, pulling slightly to one's left in nine times out of ten, only to veer hard right that tenth time.

"It's a bit – eccentric, if that's a word."

"It is a word," C-3PO agreed, "and depending on what you mean, it might even be the right one."

Rey was pleased. She was very good with technical matters, but _words_ often caused her some difficulties, if she hadn't picked them up in a manual or overheard them in a tavern brawl, which was the reason that golden droid sometimes intimidated her with its clipped preciseness of expression, all the time using words she had never heard before.

"You should not concern yourself," he now blurted. "The only ones who could really handle this vessel were Master Han, Master Luke and Master -"

If a droid could have blushed, this one would have been red-hot. Rey understandingly patted his arm. "You can say his name, you know?"

"But Princess Leia is always so upset when he is mentioned."

"She's not here though."

The droid tilted his head. "And I am not sure about the proper protocol either. How am I supposed to refer to him? Master Ben? Supreme Master Kylo? Is 'Ren' a part of the title, do you think?"

R2-D2 didn't exactly answer that question, but his beeps made his opinion on Kylo Ren's 'entitlement' quite clear, flustering C-3PO in their explicitness.

"Now look here! There is no call for such language!"

Beep-bee-bee-buiiip.

"Insolent rascal!"

Buieeep. Beep. Beeep.

And while Rey was still giggling, she thought of C-3PO's remark how upset Leia got when her son was mentioned, letting her smile curdle. After everything Kylo Ren had done, even after murdering his own father, his mother _still cared_. Rey was struck by the unfairness. The man was a bloody killer! Meanwhile, Rey had always tried her best to be good – and her parents had sold her to Unkar Plutt! For drinking money! How much had they got for her, uh? Not much, knowing Unkar Plutt. Leia on the other hand would have given all the money in the galaxy just to get her rotten son back.

The comparison was so infuriating, she went outside for a breath of fresh air, where she spotted Finn and Rose. The latter had recovered far enough to leave her make-shift bed on crutches that Rey had welded out of some of the _Falcon's_ broken tubes, delighted how pleased the other woman had been. "Wow! Made of parts of the actual _Millennium Falcon_ ," she had breathed in awe.

Rey liked her a lot, she only wished Rose wasn't always so shy and self-effacing, as it made Rey self-conscious when dealing with her. She didn't consider herself a hero of the Resistance (or any other thing), not for besting Kylo Ren in fight, not for levitating ten tons of slip rock either, and was embarrassed by Rose's admiration.

Rose had cast the crutches aside in order to take some tentative steps without them, merely leaning on Finn's arm. It seemed to work out quite well, until the two of them noticed her, that was. Finn made some involuntary movement that overthrew Rose's fragile balance and made her fall down quite flat on her face. Rey rushed forth to help pick her up.

"Gosh, are you alright?"

"I'm sorry," Rose said (unbelievably!), "I'm such a clod."

"Nonsense!"

In that moment, they heard a ship approaching and without further ado grabbed Rose and bodily carried her between them back inside into the hangar. They all picked up a weapon – even C-3PO, though heaven knew what he might do with it – and peered at the entrance, ready to strike down any assailant until hearing familiar beeps outside.

"BB-8!" Rey cried joyously. "You're back!"

"Always nice to be appreciated," came Poe's voice close behind, accompanied by a deep bark announcing Chewbacca's presence as well. Rey ran forth to welcome them, slowly followed by Finn who had put Rose's arm around his shoulder in order to support her.

x X x

 **2.**

 _Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,  
Tears from the depth of some divine despair  
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,  
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,  
And thinking of the days that are no more._

 _Dear as remembered kisses after death,  
And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned  
On lips that are for others; deep as love,  
Deep as first love, and wild with all regret;  
O Death in Life, the days that are no more!_

 _ALFRED LORD TENNYSON – Tears, Idle Tears_

General Hux's estimation of his superior was astonishingly accurate. Kylo Ren took no interest whatsoever in the actual bombardment of the cities Greatry on Yavin 4 by the _Solution_ , Gharmar on Klott by the _Determinator_ , or furthest off of them all, Yashta on Bespin by the _Exterminator_. He hadn't attended the preparatory meeting and wasn't even on board when it happened. Instead, he was idly flying in his cherished TIE-silencer over the pleasantly rolling hills close to Nevo Kall in a mood almost serene and in stark contrast to the fact that he had turned on every tracking instrument and ignited all weapon systems. He had no mind to use any of these, but for Hux's sake he at least had to put on a show.

 _Of course_ he wouldn't assassinate his mother, even if she had been here – which she was not, he was sure of it. By grace of the Force, he could feel her presence if she was anywhere close, it was like a colour filter in his vision so to speak, a presence clouding his judgment and determination, but here and now, he could see very clearly and take actual pleasure in the beauty of the landscape underneath him.

He scorned Hux's intelligence channels and was actually looking forward to making his opinion on that subject known to his general, but for now, he could simply enjoy the day. He liked flying and was excellent at it, courtesy of his genes possibly, and the fact that his proud father had taught him how to fly almost as soon as he had been able to walk, in the _Millennium Falcon_ of course.

The memories of his father were almost enough to spoil this otherwise so perfect day, so instead of recalling Han Solo in the cockpit, he focused on the ship itself. The _Millennium Falcon_. _What_ a piece of junk, held together by copper wire, super glue and hope (not to say wishful thinking). There was _always_ something wrong with it (his father had spent far more time repairing than actually flying it), and yet it persisted, and could still make the Kessel Run in twelve parsec! He smiled fondly as he had an image of the ship before his inner eye, only to find that it looked somewhat – different. Could a memory look different than a memory…?

No philosophical contortions were necessary to answer that question. He wasn't watching a memory; he saw the actual ship as it looked _now_ , after its escape from Crait. They had changed the left-wing flank. Gosh, even after all these years, he knew that darned ship so darned well, he'd have noticed if they had exchanged an antenna, possibly.

More disconcertingly though, he not only saw the _Millennium Falcon_ , he also saw her crew in a kind of double, no, _triple_ vision. He saw _her_ – and he saw the rest of them, through her eyes, sitting around the table in the hold with empty plates before them, as if waiting for a meal.

The universe clearly conspired to ruin his day, and he was not alone in thinking so.

'Get out of my head!' she snapped, much to the consternation of her cronies who stared at her as if she was a lunatic. One of them – the one from the forest, the deserter – put his hand on her shoulder. Kylo involuntarily clenched his fists, thus equally involuntarily pushing both triggers and sending two missiles into a valley which until that second had been the textbook example of a peacefully rural idyll, and now looked like a moon crater.

The actual explosions shattered the connection as much as his anyway fragile peace of mind, or what was left of it after this encounter, and while he was still reeling, a sudden emptiness swept over him with the power of a million hydro-bombs.

The TIE fighter expelled, shot or dropped every piece of ammunition it had carried and went into emergency mode as it tried to land autonomously, sensing its pilot had lost consciousness. But he hadn't. He was simply stunned beyond the capacity of movement, or thought, or breathing.

There was but one thing in his mind. She was gone. Ama was gone.

x X x

 **3.**

 _No man, proclaimed Donne, is an Island, and he was wrong.  
If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each other's tragedies._

 _NEIL GAIMAN – American Gods_

"What the _hell_ was that?!"

But Rey couldn't answer, not now. She felt a violent reverberation rippling through the Force, similar in some way to the moment she had sensed Luke Skywalker's death, but different in so many others. There was nothing peaceful about the sensation and also it was much more intense, like an explosion in an echo chamber. For a split second she wondered if something had happened to Kylo Ren, with whom she shared a much stronger link than she ever had had with his uncle, but she just knew that wasn't it. And by the same token, the same connection, she at once knew for certain _what_ it was and gasped on the verge of choking, "Leia!"

Chewbacca yelped in distress, while Finn and Rose merely gawked at her. Poe dropped the huge pot of stew he was carrying.

"What about Leia?"

"What is it?"

"Spit it out, kid!"

"Leave her alone, can't you see –"

And by sheer will power, Rey managed to say, "She's dead."

She lost it a bit after that, so shaken that all the cries and tears, exclamations and oaths, and general confusion around her did not register at all.

Leia was dead. Leia, their beacon of hope, was gone. Leia, who had treated her more like a mother than her own mother ever had, was lost. Leia, possibly the last link that her son had had with what was good in the galaxy, had ceased to exist in one gigantic explosion.

When she came to, she found somebody – Finn, if past experience was anything to go by – had taken her to her cot and tugged her in. An embarrassment of Porgs had assembled next to her, or right on top of her blanket, but their anxious wide-eyed stares and crowing had nothing on Finn, who sat next to her, clasping her hands in his and looking on the verge of tears.

It took some persuasion to make him believe that she could be left alone without actually hurting his feelings by telling him that his presence was a bigger burden right now than his absence. Once he was gone, the little tension she could muster left her again and she sank back as if gravity had just exponentiated itself. The despondency she experienced caused by Leia's loss was nothing compared to the utter despair that her son was going through, which unfortunately she felt just as well. To drown in someone else's grief was – well, weird to start with, all the more because she had no more patience left for him of all people. And yet, his horrified, hopeless desolation touched her to the core and despite herself she couldn't help it but feel unspeakably sorry for him.

She remembered what Leia – oh, Leia! – had told her about her last conversation with Luke. 'Nobody's ever truly gone.' And with all her might, she sent that memory to Leia's son.

x X x

 **4.**

 _There's little joy in life for me,  
And little terror in the grave;  
I've lived the parting hour to see  
Of one I would have died to save._

 _CHARLOTTE BRONTË – On the Death of Anne Brontë_

Like on auto-pilot, Chewbacca and Poe had returned to the _Falcon's_ cock-pit and settled in their respective seats to relieve the real auto-pilot of its duties. Both of them were such seasoned flyers that they found the routines and automatic movements soothing and just enough of a distraction to be able to handle the news.

 _Leia was dead._

Poe – after the first knock-out – retained a morsel of hope that Rey might be mistaken, all the more after anxiously turning on the radio and hearing of a massive attack on the planet Klott. The city of Gharmar was all but wiped out. Such an event must have caused a massive disturbance in the Force, right? Surely, this was what the girl had felt?

However, the next report came not twenty minutes later, and confirmed an even heavier attack on the mining colony Yashta on the planet Bespin where, as Poe knew just too well, Leia had been in order to raise money and new ships. The voices on the radio were frantic, so high-pitched and panicked that Poe soon tuned them out, clinging once more to the hopeful thought that Leia had survived the _Raddus_ disaster, too, and that after all had been a direct missile hit of the very _room_ she had been in, after which she had been _sucked out into space_. A woman capable of surviving _that_ was capable of anything!

Leia Organa Solo could not be dead. The woman had lived through _everything_ , the annihilation of her homeworld, personal persecution by Darth Vader, several wars, character assassination, a failed marriage, the loss of a wayward son, her husband and her brother. She was _unbreakable_. Poe had been only twelve when convincing his parents to send him to military school only so he could join the Republican Navy from which he had transferred to the Resistance at the earliest possibility, and why had he been such a big fan? Not only because he loved flying (obviously), but because General Organa, as she had often been called still, had been his heroine for as long as he could remember. The way he saw it even now, that woman and her smart decisions, her political savvy and over all, unfailing courage had almost single-handedly brought down the Empire. She had built up the New Republic, too, and later, when realising its necessity, founded the Resistance. _Leia Organa Solo could not be dead._

Next to him, Chewbacca gave off constant growls, that sounded threatening but were in fact sobs. He had enough experience with the Force – or rather its users – to know that the young girl was not mistaken. Leia – tiny little Leia – the last of them except Chewbacca himself – was dead. Like her husband, Chewbacca's best friend in all the galaxy, like her brother, little Luke. The trouble they had been through together would have filled books and books and books. And after losing his own family long ago, Han's family had become his own, Leia had been like a little sister to him, saucy and brave, and he would have given his life to protect her. Why, even their son (whom he would have called a bastard in Basic Galactic, if it hadn't been an insult to his dear parents, but unfortunately Basic Galactic didn't possess anything like the rich material Shyriiwook offered in swear words and insults) had been nothing if not beloved by his sort-of-uncle for the longest part of his wicked, wasted life.

With Leia gone, Chewbacca was finally all alone. Not that he wasn't fond of these kids – they were terrific – but they were mere children in his eyes and shared no history with him.

But Chewbacca wasn't the last of the old crew, he merely shared the perhaps understandable bias that droids were different from sentient beings, that their programming didn't allow for any emotions. He was wrong in that perception. Droids were machines, oh yes, but they were also programmed to adapt to their masters, and over a long time, some of them even adopted feelings.

R2-D2 hadn't yet got over Luke Skywalker's death and consequently couldn't really process Leia's. What he did register though was that next to him, C-3PO had switched to non-operating mode and no amount of beeping and frenzied button-pushing could wake him up again.

x X x

 **5.**

'Nobody's ever truly gone,' he could hear his mother's voice saying in that raspy alto of hers. He could see her sparkling dark eyes that were so much like his own, and her graceful smile that hadn't changed even though the rest of her face had so much since he had last seen her. And now he never would again.

He was still sitting in the pilot seat of his TIE fighter which had safely landed without his assistance on some impossibly lovely pasture in the middle of nowhere. He had screamed out his pain until his voice had given up, had mutely persisted some longer until his lungs had surrendered, too. Now silent tears were gushing down his cheeks.

'Nobody's ever truly gone.' But she _was_. She _was_ gone. He had _tried_ to keep her, and he had failed. Some rational part of him weakly tried to reason that you couldn't save someone who stubbornly refused to be saved, like you couldn't save a man from burning if he insisted on running back into his burning house. 'But at least you needn't stoke up the flames either' another part in his mind taunted.

'Nobody's ever truly gone.' There it was again, just that this time, the voice wasn't so much his mother's, but Rey's. He was too wrapped up to be surprised (that would come later), but not to feel grateful. He knew just too well that in the entire galaxy this was the only person having any compassion for him in this moment, sworn enemy or not.

'I am not your enemy,' she said. 'We just happen to believe in diametrically opposed causes.'

This almost made him laugh. Like an island in an ocean of misery that he could aim for.

'I bet my mother was very fond of you, wasn't she?'

'I don't know. I hope so.'

'My father, too.'

'Well, he wasn't really the type to let his emotions show, was he? But he offered me a job.'

'That's the highest praise he had to offer, actually.'

'Do you – do you…'

He knew what she couldn't bring herself to ask out loud. 'Do I regret killing him? Believe it or not, but I do. God, I do. Even more now that I… Well, that she will never know.'

'Oh, but she _will_ know! She does know. The Force was in her, too. Sure she can feel it.'

Perhaps because he so desperately wished it to be true, in that minute, he believed it, too.

'I – I need to go now,' she said with a note of genuine regret.

'Yes… Will you – will we –'

'I don't think so, do you?' She made a funny face. 'Not counting the times we can't help it.'

'Well, anyway – _thank you_.'

'You are welcome. Anytime.'

The statement seemed to belie its predecessor, but even if she hadn't been gone already, he wouldn't have pointed it out, because he knew what she meant by it. Ironically though, the loss of his mother seemed to make the necessity of wiping out the rest of the Resistance all the more imperative. They _mustn't_ survive without her, if only to honour her memory.

x X x

 **6.**

When Rey returned to the _Falcon's_ cockpit, she walked right into an argument between Poe and Finn, who both stopped dead once they noticed her.

"What is it?" she asked uneasily.

Finn raised his chin. "Ask _him_ that."

Poe gave him a reproachful look but didn't prevaricate. "Just before you sensed that Leia had died – what the heck happened there?"

She hesitated before answering, "It was B- Kylo Ren. We – we connect sometimes. I don't know why."

Another exchange, of mute glances this time, between a defiant Finn and a told-you-so Poe, but it was Rose who actually broke the silence. "Can you control it?"

"Not always."

"Which is the same as to say 'no'," Poe gnarled.

Rey felt she had to defend herself, even though she wasn't quite sure why. "It just happens. Only for seconds, mostly, and I told him I don't want it."

"You two are _talking_?" Finn gasped.

Although they _had_ talked just an hour ago, voluntarily and at Rey's own instigation, she got the distinct impression she'd rather not admit this out loud. "I didn't say that, did I?"

"Rey," Poe said urgently, "this is really dangerous. We just got word from Yavin 4, they carpet-bombed Greatry and everything else in a radius of a hundred miles. Don't you see, they're hunting down the last members of the Resistance one by one. This way, he might be able to get a fix on you, too."

"No, he couldn't. Neither of us can see the other one's surroundings."

"Maybe you can't see _his_ , but who says he can't see yours?"

"He does," she said without thinking, and wasn't even offended to hear Poe scoff. "No. He didn't lie."

"How would you know?" Finn asked.

"I just know, okay?"

"It's got to stop, Rey," Poe said, with Chewbacca loudly agreeing in the background.

"Fine. You tell me how, and I'll stop it!"

"What about all those books you brought?" Finn asked.

The books! The books were more riddles than texts; she had spent every free minute with them, but so far, she hadn't come across a section explaining how to keep someone out of your head. How to get into theirs – yes. Yes, there had been something. But not the other way round.

"Come on, guys," Rose said, stepping between them and putting an arm around Rey. "Leave her alone."

x X x

 **7.**

Rey had never had anyone whom she would have called a friend in her life, so maybe it was only natural that now that she had some, she was quite incapable to handle any kind of disagreement with them. She felt Poe's criticism was totally uncalled for, why, even Finn's remark 'You two are _talking_?' smacked of reproach. In addition, BB-8 and R2-D2 were angrily beeping at each other in the hold, and worst of all, she was still swamped by Kylo Ren's anguish which wafted through her mind like clouds of black, stifling smoke, drowning out even her own grief over Leia's death.

Helpless, she fled into the hull, where she at least could no longer hear the squabbling droids. Why had she lied? Had she lied? Was an omission of truth the same like lying? She shouldn't be lying to her friends, should she?

So what if she on occasion talked to Kylo Ren? Only then she realised that she hadn't told them about all the other times, when she had been on Ahch-To. Not on purpose – it just never really had come up. And for all she could tell, they probably assumed that it had been Luke sending her as an envoi to his nephew…

To her own astonishment, she found that her anger at that nephew had much abated since their latest talk, and it wasn't just her pity for him softening her. No, it was his admission to regret killing his father that had done it. In spite of all his 'Let the past die, kill it if you must'-talk, he repented of that foul deed. She had sensed so much before, but it felt good to hear him say it out loud. Well, as good as anything could feel on this dark, dark day.

In order to distract herself she once again pored over one of her books. If there was something in here about getting into someone's head, surely there must be something about the other way round, right? The problem was that half of them were written in runes that she couldn't identify, the others didn't qualify as 'texts' in the first place; they were mostly pictures, with marginal notes clearly added much later that often obscured rather than illuminated the matter. This, for example, seemed to depict a human eye, iris, pupil, lashes and all, but someone had scribbled 'black sun' beside it. Next to it was what looked like a hand, or maybe an oddly shaped branch, but the description said 'four phases of the moon'. Where was the sense in that?! And what had either the author or his commentator tried to say in the first place?

And while she was still marvelling at these mysteries, and trying to ignore the invasion of gloom, it suddenly hit her out of nowhere. ' _We just got word from Yavin 4, they carpet-bombed Greatry and everything else in a radius of a hundred miles._ ' Oh! Oh, no! Yavin 4 was Poe's homeworld, she knew that because he had returned from there only yesterday – and if the First Order had bombed a place called Greatry there, because they went after Resistance members and supporters – oh good heavens!

She dropped the sacred book absent-mindedly, jumped to her feet and hurried upstairs. Once she reached the cockpit, she hurled her arms around Poe without any further warning. "I am sorry! I am so sorry! How are you – are you okay – oh dear me, I am so sorry for you, Poe!"

The _Falcon_ veered hard to its right as Poe yanked the steering in shock. Chewbacca cried out and counteracted the involuntary manoeuvre, Finn came running in to see what had happened only to find Rey hugging their pilot's head in a way that rendered him incapable of sight as well as speech. On any other day – and to any other observer – it would have looked funny. But Finn could merely goggle as something very unpleasant was happening inside his guts.

x X x

 **8\. If That's What It Takes**

 _But the zeal of fanaticism prevailed over the cold and feeble efforts of policy._

 _EDWARD GIBBON – The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_

"I don't think I ever asked – do you enjoy hunting, Phasma?"

"You mean – animals?"

He raised his brows but otherwise ignored the counter-question. "My father, the late General, was a great enthusiast for blood sports. He used to tell me, 'Boy, when you shoot a Rathtar cub, make sure its mother is nowhere near'."

"What about the cub being around when you shoot the mother?"

"No need to be so literal. I know I am in trouble. But it really was the only way, wouldn't you agree?"

"Not to _his_ face, I wouldn't."

He sniggered mirthlessly. "The Resistance is down to its very last resources. As long as she was alive, they might have rallied others around them again. Without her though, I wonder if we even need to bother to vanquish the sorry remains."

"It's refreshing to see you contemplating the future. Do you reckon you have one?"

"If not, it is a sacrifice worth making." He noted her scornful gaze and shook his head. "This is no idle talk, Phasma. My reasons to do it were sound. His reaction will show if he really is our leader, or the traitor I believe him to be. If the latter, I expect you to know what to do."

"You really think he killed Snoke?"

"I don't think he had the strength to overcome the Supreme Leader's powers, no, but then, I cannot make myself believe for one minute that this _girl_ would have it."

"Maybe it was an accident. When that ship ran us through."

"And spontaneously ignited a lightsabre in its way?"

"I had rather thought of Snoke being injured, and Ren seizing the chance when it presented itself."

"Either way, it's high treason."

"Only if you can get him for it, and I don't see how you want to accomplish that."

"Me neither, and for the time being, it's vain to speculate when I cannot be sure if I live to see nightfall. But I want you to keep it in mind, will you?"

"Hux, I am flattered by your trust in me. Flustered too, but mainly flattered. However, I am the leader of the Stormtroopers. I _like_ being the leader of the Stormtroopers. Unlike you, or Ren, I don't aspire to more."

"But the First Order needs you!"

"Yes, it does. In my capacity as the bloody best leader of the bloody best elite soldiers the galaxy has ever seen. Even the effing Empire's troops were a fucking joke compared to _my_ boys."

He blanched at her profanity as much as at the sacrilege.

x X x


	3. Grief

**III. GRIEF**

* * *

 _Me miserable! which way shall I fly  
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?  
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;  
And in the lowest deep a lower deep  
Still threat'ning to devour me opens wide,  
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heav'n._

 _JOHN MILTON – Paradise Lost_

 **1.**

As it turned out, General Hux needn't have worried about nightfall, because Kylo Ren returned much, much later than that. Hux had made a point of waiting for him on the bridge – if he was to be killed for his decision to execute the leader of the Resistance, he wanted every officer of rank to witness this and draw their own conclusions! – and was deadly tired already when Ren's TIE-fighter turned in at last. He braced himself for disaster – and waited. And waited some more, until it finally dawned on him that Ren had gone straight to his quarters. A quick examination of the respective technical logs confirmed it – the Supreme Leader was in his rooms, sealed and sound.

Well, maybe Hux had overestimated the power of the Force. He had actually expected Ren to somehow feel his mother's demise, but that was the whole problem with it. You never knew what it could do and what not.

When he was finally summoned to the presence in the next morning in order to report, he took his two adjutants along, as much as witnesses as for moral support. Strangely enough, Ren hadn't changed his office after his ascension to power – Hux had expected him to occupy the principal office (which happened to be his own, incidentally), but the man had showed no such inclination, which annoyed his general almost as much as being chased out of his office would have. So the much anticipated confrontation was to take place in Ren's own comparably small office. It offended Hux's sensibilities to possibly die in such mundane surroundings.

"Our attacks on Greatry, Gharmar and Yashta were comprehensively successful, Supreme Leader," he reported curtly, forcing himself to keep his eyes straight ahead in the military fashion. Upon coming in, he had caught a brief glance of Ren, and he had looked _awful_ , even worse than he had with a lightsabre wound gashing in his face. So he must have got wind of his mother's death after all, uh?

"Confirmed casualties?"

Mechanically, Hux recited the names of known Resistance supporters and actual members, keeping the best – or worst – for last. "And – well, we actually chanced upon their leader, too, it appears. Our reports from Yashta confirm that General Solo was there."

He could feel how Ren closely studied his face. "Yes. I noticed she was nowhere near Nevo Kall."

Nobody spoke for a couple of excruciatingly long minutes. Eventually, Hux gave in and looked at Ren directly. He almost physically recoiled. The always pale countenance was sheet-white, dominated by these burning black eyes, enhanced now by dark circles around them. His entire face seemed to have caved in, with prominent cheekbones, hollow cheeks and a dangerously accentuated jaw line. Even the teeth looked somewhat longer. Had the man lost twenty pounds overnight?!

Ren returned his gaze with flaming hatred until he spoke at last, perilously calm. "I want those last Resistance members hunted down. Vanquish them from the face of the galaxy for good."

Hux no longer much cared for the sorry bunch of remaining Resistance fighters who posed no more serious threat to anyone, but his secret conviction that Ren was a traitor received a deep blow. Was this the same man who had so vociferously tried to save the Hosnian system? But then, as Hux knew from personal experience, losing one's parents had this wondrously liberating effect on people. Perhaps Ren was finally coming into his own.

He returned to the soldierly stance. "Yes, Supreme Leader. Anything else?"

"Yes. The girl – I want her alive."

"That might be difficult, Supreme Leader, seeing how she was capable of defeating Supreme Leader Snoke, the Praetorian guards _and_ yourself."

Ren raised his brows, which enhanced his present resemblance to a skull. "She did _not_ defeat me. We were hit by a bloody MC85 star cruiser at the speed of light."

"Yes, sir. Supreme Leader."

"That is all for now, General."

Hux and his men saluted, turned on their heels and marched out. Only when the door was sealed behind them he realised that his tunic was soaking wet with cold sweat.

x X x

 **2\. Ghosts of the Past**

 _The bonds of family bind both ways. They bind us up, support us, help us, and they are also a bond from which it is difficult, perhaps impossible to extricate oneself._

 _DESIRE – Sandman_

Being his mother's son, Kylo Ren thought little of drowning one's sorrows in alcohol (Leia had been of the clench-your-teeth-and-get-on-with-it variety). However, he did allow himself a little snifter now, counting on the soporific effect of the unfamiliar substance.

To say that it had taken all his will not to murder Hux would have been a lie. Obviously, he would have been on his thankful knees if some divine intervention had struck the bastard with lightning there and then, but he himself was too drained of all energy to lift a single finger to that purpose. There would come a time for retribution, oh _yes_ , there _would_. But not now.

Perhaps because he was a little tipsy, he strolled over to the alcove where he kept his grandfather's helmet, or what was left of it. He stopped before the large urn on which it was placed which did _not_ – as First Order legend had it – contain the ashes of Kylo Ren's enemies (weird idea, really!) but just maybe some remains of Darth Vader and his funeral pyre. Both helmet and ashes had been gifts from Snoke once. More importantly, they were the source of guidance and wisdom.

"She's dead, grandfather," he told the charred mask in a broken voice, "your daughter is dead. Your son, too, is dead. I am the last of your descendants."

The mask stayed silent. For a minute Kylo wondered if his grandfather might be offended because he hadn't consulted him in – gosh, how long? Three weeks? Ever since destroying his own mask at any rate. Gingerly, he reached out and touched it, frowned, then took off his gloves and repeated the move. Still, nothing. No reproof nor advice, no subtle pulsating in the Force, no screams of the defeated enemies of Darth Vader, no surge of energy. _Nothing_. He must _really_ have affronted the old man – or was he, too, in mourning?

Realisation came only slowly, but when it did, it had the certainty and inevitability of a supernova going off right before your face. This was _not_ the mask of Darth Vader. These were _not_ his charred remains. Most assuredly these were not the means of reaching out and communicating to his dead grandfather. It was all a lie – and a very transparent one come to that, one you had to be a total laserbrain to ever fall for just for one minute!

A gift from Snoke indeed! He was stumped by his own naïve gullibility. For years he had truly believed that his grandfather's spirit was talking to him, guiding him, instructing him in the ways of the Dark side, chiding him when he wasn't giving his best, or wavered in his resolution. It must have been none other than Snoke himself, of course – as proven by the fact that his grandfather's 'spirit' hadn't stirred the slightest bit since Snoke's death.

And thinking of it – not only his dead grandfather had been suspiciously silent since then. Even his own thoughts had been much – quieter. No strange ideas, no dissenting choir of whispers, no 'follow your destiny' flashes of inspiration, no stern admonitions, all of which had felt like his own at the time, but…

How _stupid_ he had been to trust that snake! Seriously! He wasn't credulous by nature and experience, how come he had never once doubted _him_?! Ah yes, because the _spirit of Darth Vader_ had told him so. Honestly, he ought to have his head checked. In that one instance, Snoke had been right after all; twenty-five he may be on the outside, but inside he was nothing but a child, a child believing in heroes and monsters and ludicrous stories. And why? Why had Snoke dished up all this rubbish, only to lure him in? Because he had been scared of fragging Luke Skywalker, that's why; he had needed a Skywalker to defeat a Skywalker, it was really that simple, wasn't it?

'Snoke is using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he'll crush you.'

He winced back from the memory of his father's warning and whipped out his sword almost automatically, ready to slice through the burnt helmet before him. It wasn't piety or hesitation that made him refrain from striking though. It was the simple fact that he felt too bloody exhausted to destroy that silly piece of gimcrack. Instead he sheathed the sword and lurched to his cot, dropping down in full armour, and dared not hope to finally, finally fall asleep (he had spent the remainder of the night wide awake), but that was what happened almost as soon as hitting the horizontal. Sleep didn't bring relief though, but yet more agitation and agony.

Predictably, he dreamt of his mother, but even in the dream he was only-too-painfully aware that she was dead. Still, he saw her in all her glory. As a child, little Ben Solo had believed his mother to be the most beautiful person in all the galaxies. Later he had found out that _every_ child felt this way about their mothers, but that didn't diminish her loveliness in his eyes one bit, least now. Even so, her beauty had been nothing compared to her grace, her kindness, her fire and wit. It tore him apart as he dreamt of her indulgent smiles, her caresses, her voice, her laughter, her humour, her obvious pride in him, and how it had rattled him whenever she had left him for yet another urgent mission, yet another important cause. 'Darling, I'd much rather stay here with you,' she had assured him while wiping away his tears, 'but there are things more important than me and you and what _we_ want.'

He saw his father, too, though rarely in the same frame as his Ama, and if they were, they were arguing. They had been a singularly mismatched couple; both young Ben Solo and adult Kylo Ren had never ever fathomed what had made these two believe they should marry, and often thought that their very incompatibility was the chief reason for his own muddled personality. Ladies and gentlemen, in the right corner we have Princess Leia 'the Choobies-Crusher' Organa, cultured, educated, steeped in political discourse, highly disciplined and not suffering any fools. And in the left corner we have Han 'the Perpetual Underdog' Solo, a cocky, unreliable petty criminal and hedonist who thinks 'Discipline' was a planet in the Devoran system and that rules apply only to other people, has a knack for gambling away the rent and claims to fight for 'liberty' by which he means his own personal freedom to come and go as he pleases.

Han Solo had been annoyed by his wife's near constant absence, which hadn't kept him though from getting away as often and as far as he could, too. When he _had_ been at home, he had been crabby and short-tempered like a caged animal; the fun-loving smuggler of legend was not the same man that his son had known most of the time. Yet there were tender memories as well. The secret winks to his son behind his wife's back, the great tales of criminal – oh yes – pursuits, their rides together on the _Millennium Falcon_ , or shooting at bottles put on the balustrade of their balcony far over the clogged streets of Hanna City.

 _Hanna City._ Ben Solo had loved their home there, the only _real_ home he'd ever known (after those first five years there, they'd been on the move every damned year). But nothing had ever compared to Hanna City, with its bustling streets full of people of every conceivable race (and then some, making you wonder if they were even real), so crowded, so noisy, so unruly and malodorous and ugly, and yet so ineffably great. Leia had been continuously annoyed by the sheer bedlam, but Han Solo had cherished it for what it was, and taken their son along to explore its wonders, the amazing shops selling fragrant spices from every corner of the universe, the tiny itinerant food stalls offering delicacies whose origin you'd be well-advised never to ask about, the carnivals, the zoos and circuses, the story-tellers and street artists, who'd paint anything you liked, or sing or dance or juggle not only for money, but sometimes a mere smile – and, yes, also the gambling dens, and race tracks, and drinking joints, in short: all the places you _really_ shouldn't take a four-year-old to.

The recollections were sweet and immeasurably painful. _Let the past die!_ But it _was_ dead now, irretrievably gone forever – yet the pain was even sharper than before. He managed to keep his thoughts at bay while he was awake, that was: ban every remembrance of his last few minutes with his dad, but now they broke over him with full force.

'Come home. We miss you.'

He woke up panting, only to see himself surrounded by the ghosts of dead men, his father in the middle flanked by Snoke on the left and Luke on his other side. All three sneered down at him in unison.

'Told you, kid. You cannot kill the past,' Luke rasped.

Han Solo chimed in, 'Well, here we are. You got all you wanted. Are you happy _now_?'

'Traitor,' Snoke said simply.

Han Solo glanced over to him. "He may look like a skinned snake that's been lying in the sun too long, but the man does have a point.'

'Traitor,' Snoke repeated dispassionately.

"Where – where's Ama?"

Han Solo shook his head. 'She won't come, Kylo. You've hurt her too deeply.'

'Also, technically she's the only one you did not kill,' Luke threw in.

"I didn't want her to die! I wanted to save her!"

The ghost of Han Solo looked offended. 'Soothes my heart to hear that, it really does, Ama's boy.'

"I didn't – grandfather said – _Snoke_ said I had to kill you!"

'Traitor!'

'Oh, grow up, will you! I really wish you'd for once take responsibility for your own actions.'

"That's rich, coming from someone who always insisted nothing was ever his fault!"

'It was _you_ who murdered me. And broke your mother's heart.'

"And how often did she break mine!"

'He's _always_ been a traitor.'

This was when he finally woke up for real, bathed in sweat and panting. His eyes swivelled around the room, which in his dream had been dark, but was brightly lit now. No ghosts there. _Of course_ not.

x X x

 **3.**

 _Never think of pain or danger or enemies a moment longer than is necessary to fight them._

 _JOHN GALT – Atlas Shrugged_

"I _am_ happy to see you survived," Captain Phasma remarked when she sat down opposite of Hux that day. Technically, they were _very_ early for a 'nightcap', but Hux had been in dire need of a drink after what had felt like a near-death experience.

"It wasn't even close. For all I can see, he hasn't even destroyed a single instrument so far," he quipped weakly.

"Well, maybe he's bottling it all up. Should we send him a couple of Stormtroopers with some vexing matter, you think? So he can work it off before he snaps while _you're_ around?"

Hux could never tell whether Phasma was joking or not.

"What news? No, don't tell me. I'm so tired, I couldn't withstand him for a minute if he tried to probe my mind."

Phasma didn't voice her opinion that no matter how well rested, Hux could never withstand _that_ – nobody ever had, as far as she could tell. But leave the man his illusions, he was pitiful enough as it was. "Ahead of schedule, actually."

"Good. I'm glad." He took a long swig, looking pensive. "Incidentally – I believe I might have been mistaken in regard to Ren's loyalties."

"Oh?"

"He wants the last rebels annihilated."

"But that's plain stupid. Without Organa, they're no longer a danger. He ought to seize the opportunity –"

"Yes, yes. But don't you see? He really _hates_ them –"

"Where does that even come into it? Hatred is blinding, as evidenced by this decision to go after the last few rebels, rather than take advantage of the situation as it is."

"I always said he'd make a terrible leader."

She gave him a meaningful smirk. "Because you hate him, too."

"He's an idiot! I bet you, when we carpet-bomb a place, he wonders where's the actual carpet."

"And the more bad decisions he makes, the more you are willing to accept him as your superior? You really need to get some sleep, old boy. And so does our Supreme Leader."

She said the last bit with such cunning that he shot her a curious smile. "Did you poison his sleeping medication?"

"Does he take any?"

"I doubt it, the way he looked today. Do you think it possible for a man to lose thirty pounds within as many hours?"

"Sure. If he takes off his armour."

She winked at him, and the mild innuendo made him laugh out loud. "Or maybe that's what he usually looks like, and why's he's always been wearing that frightful mask…"

She sighed. "You ought to stop obsessing about him, Hux. I kinda got it when you were still competing for Snoke's favour –" She ignored his indignant gasp. "But at this point it is useless. Proceed with your orders and squash the Resistance, establish the First Order's rule, use him as a figurehead – and if there is a chance in between somewhere, get rid of him as unobtrusively as you can. But don't waste your time and energy analysing his every move."

More than once, Hux had asked himself why Phasma wasn't a man. She surely had the built and height (she easily dwarfed _him_ , and he was 6'2''!), but what was more: she had the indomitable spirit. The pragmatics. The farsightedness.

He sighed regretfully.

x X x

 **4\. The Last Men Standing**

Poe didn't need Chewbacca's occasional yelps of alarm or warning to know that he was taking too many risks when flying these days, all the more in a – let's call it vintage – ship like the _Falcon_. He couldn't have helped it though. He knew he was overly tetchy since losing both his leader and his home town within twenty minutes, both of which had been their most promising hopes for getting new ships and troops. Now their best bets were Chewbacca's compatriots, who were mighty fighters but sadly lacking in hardware, and whoever D'Acy might be able to rouse. For all intents and purposes, she was the new leader of the Resistance by simple seniority, a job she was not at all qualified for if one asked Poe (no one did, but he told them anyway on a regular basis). Larma D'Acy was no leader, she wasn't even a fighter. By training as much as by personality, she was an administrator; she had been Leia Organa Solo's right hand even in her Senator days and – Poe was certain – superb in that position. But the ability to write concise memos and organise large amounts of data didn't win wars.

Matters were further complicated by a short-lived and ill-judged dalliance between them a couple of years ago (he still cringed with the memory, and knew that so did she), which made it extremely uncomfortable for both of them to be in the same room (it was enough to picture her saying 'this is an order, Commander' to make him blush to the roots of his hair, and he wasn't easily embarrassed). Well, he'd find out soon enough, because with Yavin 4 gone, they had been forced to change plans and were going to meet her on Warlentta.

He didn't quite understand how this had all gone downhill so disastrously within such a short time. Two months ago, the odds had actually seemed ever so slightly in their favour – now they were down to less than a dozen active fighters, a leader undeserving of that title and the First Order had declared its hegemony over the galaxy without any further protest from anyone, even though they, too, had lost their leader _and_ their most sophisticated weapon. What a mighty ally fear was after all. Now _Larma D'Acy_ was supposed to deal with what _Leia Organa_ had not managed?! _Larma D'Acy_ was to give those inspirational speeches about kindling hope and passing on the spark?!

He thought he knew what he was talking about. These kids here, Finn and Rey and Rose, seemed to look to _him_ for guidance, and how utterly absurd was that? In terms of corps spirit and manoeuvring, he could scarcely hold a candle to Stormtrooper-trained Finn (say what you would about them, but those guys were trained superbly), in terms of power he was nothing compared to young Rey, and Rose surpassed him in the department of sheer brains and thinking ahead! He only was in this position because he was a _little_ bit older than they (and none of them could properly understand the _true_ senior, Chewbacca), because he had a couple of stripes on his arm, and been in the Resistance for more than six weeks.

And he couldn't lead even this small group properly. Where Leia's natural authority had managed to reconcile an entire army with members from every part of the galaxy, he failed to bring cohesion to the _Falcon's_ crew; he couldn't even convince his faithful BB-8 to leave its fellow astromech alone.

As for the humans – oh well. They were a sorry bunch, alright, with poor, timid Rose having lost her formidable sister, young Rey being an orphan practically raising herself, and the crisis of conscience personified, Finn. That was all very tragic, still they had to get over it and focus on what was at hand if they wanted to stand the slimmest chance of survival. But they were too young to fathom that. Rose was a trooper and more like her sister Paige than she knew; she'd manage if she ever came out of her shell.

But Rey and Finn? Heaven knew what was wrong with that girl and her weird visions of Kylo Ren (Poe would have blamed Ren's interrogation methods for messing the kid up, but then again, Poe had been subjected to them too, and _he_ didn't spontaneously see the guy!). She was all charming sociability, but underneath, Poe could tell she was seething – understandably, for she had really gotten herself into this impasse by sheer bloody accident, and every single mentor she'd found for herself, first Han Solo, then Skywalker, now Leia, had been killed just after meeting her. Finn on the other hand had joined their cause with great reluctance (again, understandably so), and while he seemed genuinely committed to it now, there was a resentment in him that was palpable, and it seemed to zoom in on Rey, because otherwise, they got on splendidly. He had an obvious crush on the girl (even the droids sensed it, and made jokes in binary about it behind his back) and for reasons that Poe couldn't begin to imagine seemed to regard himself as a rival for her affections.

As if! If there was one lesson his fated relationship with D'Acy had taught him, it was to abstain from meddling with fellow soldiers (or crew members) – you still had to work with these people afterwards. What was more – both Rey and Rose were much too young for him. Sometimes he wondered if he should just talk to Finn and clear this up – but then, he really _sucked_ with that kind of conversations, it was none of his business anyway, and he had enough on his hands already.

So this was the state of things. And between them, he and Larma D'Acy were supposed to lead the Resistance in its most existential crisis? Preposterous!

x X x

 **5.**

 _Some people want to argue. Some are content to just let it go._

 _DEATH – Sandman_

Sometimes Rose wondered if the First Order need even bother to persecute that last remaining members of the Resistance. The way it looked, they'd manage to eliminate themselves without any outside assistance.

How, _how_ were they supposed to bring back peace and harmony to the galaxy if they couldn't even get through an entire evening _among themselves_ without fighting?! And such useless fighting, too! It wasn't as if they disagreed over the proper next step of a strategy or other.

For reasons best known to themselves, BB-8 and R2-D2 were bickering all the time. Rose tried her best not to listen to their exasperated beepings, but reckoned it had something to do with poor C-3PO having switched off after Leia's death which in turn upset his old buddy R2-D2 greatly, who was still in mourning over Luke Skywalker and almost as aggravated by BB-8's apparent lack of respect for his elders. Furthermore, they couldn't agree who of them was actually responsible for the communication to the ship. R2-D2 had done the job for ages, long before BB-8 had even been _built_ (as he didn't tire to point out), but the latter argued that ever since first rolling on board, _he_ had been in charge because R2-D2 had just 'stood around like a broken trash can'. Oh well, droids, right?

Sadly, the sentient beings weren't any better. Rose was the only one not really partaking and watched the other combatants in woeful dismay. For all she could tell, it had all started with an innocent, if slightly outlandish remark made by Rey, some sigh about 'poor Ben' mourning his mother.

This had not gone down well with Chewbacca and Poe, who had laid into Rey like maniacs and Finn had defended her as usual – and as if she couldn't manage it herself, which had set her off against him as well, demanding not to be 'patronised', which of course had upset Finn, who had next upbraided her for being 'deluded' not to understand his – Finn's – genuine concern for her while at the same time making all kinds of excuses for ' _bloody Kylo Ren!_ ' That had pretty much chimed in with Poe and Chewbacca's tune, so Rey had accused them of ganging up against her.

"We're not ganging up on you," Finn defended himself heatedly. "But doesn't it make you wonder how it can be that all your _friends_ try to caution you while you insist on flirting with the dark side?!"

"I am doing no such thing!"

"'Oh, _poor, poor Ben_ '," Poe imitated her in a mock high-pitched voice.

"What _good_ are we even fighting for, if having compassion for someone else suddenly becomes treason!" she snapped back.

Chewbacca roared something, but Rose wasn't fluent in Shyriiwook and only understood the words 'father' and 'murder' in that irate scream of a reply. No matter. She could easily fill in the blanks.

x X x

 **6\. Nightmares**

 _"Dreams. What are Dreams? Dreams are nothing, my brother."  
"Dreams are 'nothing', sister?  
Without dreams there could be no Despair."_

 _DESPAIR and DREAM – Sandman_

It was a wild mix of anger, resentment and stubbornness on the one side and heartrending pity on the other that made her tick that night, hidden away in the bowels of the ship with a torch and flipping through the ancient texts. She was looking for the short mention she remembered about wilfully making a connection to someone in their mind – so far, they had only ever met by accident, at least on her part – but in her impatience, she couldn't find it again and instead stumbled over the exact opposite. So there _was_ a way to keep him out after all! Interesting! Unfortunately, she for once wanted to talk to him, so she browsed on.

He radiated dark waves of despairing sadness over half the galaxy that touched her heartstrings, her restless frustration grew by the minute, so when she came across a section that had only a partial overlap to her real aim, she jumped at it without a second thought. It was a kind of manual how to get into another person's dreams, possibly to influence them on a subconscious level – the idea of which would have scandalised her under different circumstances; it seemed such a sneaky thing to do and quite unworthy of the noble Jedi way! But at least it would get her there for a start. Surely, she could then wake him up, right? Right.

The actual description was elaborate and, she suspected, deliberately convoluted, she didn't understand half of it, yet when she settled in the pose Luke had shown her, she found it much easier than she had suspected. With closed eyes, she reached out to him through the Force, and somehow ended up in a small room whose very design told the political persuasion of its designer, all surfaces were made of matt steel and shaped in that peculiar First Order trapezium. On a narrow steel cot lay Kylo Ren wearing a very strange apparel of loose-fitting black trousers and a – shirt? Frock? – made out of the same soft-looking fabric. She vaguely wondered if this was a Sith costume, but she really had no mind to ponder, as the man was thrashing around in fitful sleep, haunted by nightmares which she could actually see like a sort of translucent three-dimensional projection in the background. There was a small boy, four or five perhaps, with a shock of black hair, one of his front teeth missing and sobbing desperately while clinging to the hand of Han Solo, who was dangling down from the bridge she recognised at first glance. The boy _begged_ his father not to leave him in a manner so reminiscent of Rey's only memory of her own parents that it brought tears to her eyes. Han Solo though, obviously far from feeling any danger, admonished the boy to 'be a man' and let go of him, all the while trying to wrench his hand free. He succeeded and dropped into the fathomless pit, arms and legs flailing while the child threw his head back and screamed and screamed. And in his sleep, the man on the cot did the same, but no sound would come. Hastily, Rey stepped forwards and put her hands onto his shoulders but found she couldn't touch him.

'Shhhh, shhhhh. It's alright,' she whispered helplessly. 'It's only a bad dream. Shhh.'

"Traitor!"

She swivelled around in shock, but no one was there, and even if there had been, they would probably not have been able to see her. She wasn't even a projection, she was a mere guest of Kylo Ren's subconscious.

"Traitor!"

The voice was barely audible, yet easily recognized. It was Snoke's. She wondered if he could have survived, but swiftly discounted the idea. Not only had his body been split in two when she had last seen him, she had also checked his vital signs to make really, _really_ sure.

Meanwhile the dream had changed and a glowingly beautiful, highly pregnant young woman was standing on a balcony high up over a noisy street. It took Rey a minute to recognise Leia Solo in her twenties, and another to figure out that the ruggedly handsome man next to her must be Han Solo. Out of nowhere stretched out a spindly, blue-veined hand and touched Leia's swollen belly.

"Traitor!"

Once again, she was startled and turned around, and when she looked back, the hand had grown and gripped Leia like a doll and driven its claws into her, while the man on the cot coiled up in agony.

Good heavens, this was dreadful! She tried to shake him in order to wake him up – but then, she wasn't really there and could shake him from here to eternity in vain.

'Ben,' she said urgently, 'wake up, please! It's just a dream!'

The dream changed again and now Rey saw herself – or a version of herself, but much fiercer, clad in brilliant white and radiant like illuminated by the Force or something. She was standing over Kylo Ren in some landscape resembling the snow-covered forest on Starkiller Base; he was badly injured, his face, shoulders, stomach bleeding heavily and staring up at her in fear and supplication, but she just laughed at him, raised her lightsabre and slashed at him – and again – and again –

'Wake up, Ben!' she cried, perfectly horrified, 'You must listen to me. _Listen to me._ Wake up. You must wake up, do you hear me?'

But he didn't and all Rey could do was being a silent, helpless witness to the horrors enfolding the sleeping man.

x X x

 **7.**

 _He's humiliated me. He's been rude and boorish. He's stuffy and stupid and thinks he knows everything. And there's just something about him that gets on my nerves. But I can't help feeling sorry for him._

 _DESIRE – Sandman_

When she could take it no more, she returned her mind to where her body still was – Han Solo's favourite smuggling hideaway. The torch had rolled away and cast eerie shadows as she clasped her throat and tried to calm herself. Gosh, that man was troubled! If she had dreams like these, she'd stop sleeping altogether!

Her pulse only slowly went back from 'close to heart attack' to normal, but when it did, her practical common sense returned. No use in worrying oneself sick when one could do something about it.

She settled with crossed legs, straightened her back and closed her eyes, confident that she could make contact with Luke Skywalker through the Force and eventually succeeding by sheer blind faith. Once she could see his face in her mind, she instantly spilled out a torrent of wild pleas that it would take a Jedi master to make sense of. Luckily, he was one, but it took even him a while until he could make her slow down and listen.

'As honourable as your intentions are, as misguided are your actions, Rey,' he said with quiet urgency.

'Not you, too! I thought at least _you_ would understand that we have this connection –'

'I understand it is there, though I cannot understand for the life of me – pardon the pun – why it exists in the first place.'

'It was Snoke, he –'

'He may have amplified it, enforced it, but he surely wasn't the one to create it. And he is dead now, yet it is getting stronger all the time. Which is why you must not abuse it –'

'I don't –'

'You can't break into his mind while he's asleep!'

She stared at him, not voicing her thoughts that this was rich coming from a man who had once done exactly the same and _not_ in a spirit of moral support, but he seemed to hear her as if she had said it out loud.

'It was a mistake, and the entire galaxy is paying for it dearly. I know you want to help him. But good intentions alone are not enough, if the consequent action is wrong. Imagine just for a minute it was the other way round, imagine it was _he_ getting into _your_ head while _you're_ asleep. How'd you like _that_.'

She bit her lip. 'I… I didn't think… You're right. But… Look, you said you made a mistake, so maybe now you can remedy it and help him.'

'I've seen my nephew twice in the last eight years, and both times he would have killed me.'

'But he couldn't kill you any longer, and he really needs your help now.'

'Granted. What I'm saying is he won't accept it.'

'But there must be _something_ you can do.'

'I don't see what. How am I to ward off his nightmares, do you think? And even if could – which I can't, believe me – but even if I _could_ , I think it is more important for him to get through them by himself.'

'But –'

'I can feel that you still have a spark of hope for him and it humbles me. You may very well be the only person in the universe alive or dead that has not given up on Ben Solo, in spite of everything. So listen to me now: If there is to be _any_ hope for him, he must battle his demons on his own. You know what he is _now_. What he has done. Aren't a few nightmares a cheap price to pay for all this?'

'It is cruel!'

'Sometimes you've got to be cruel to be kind.'

'And that is a cheap truism.'

The apparition frowned. 'Fancy vocabulary you picked up there on Jakku.'

'What?'

'Actually reminds me of a conversation I once had… A long, long time ago. And with Ben Solo, incidentally.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Nothing. Now _listen to me_ – steer clear of him. Let him find his own way. He has all he needs for that.'

'But –'

'Do not repeat my mistakes, Rey. I lost him by trying to force him to be someone he wasn't. Have faith in him all you want, but leave him alone to figure out who he is.'

x X x


	4. Recalled to Life

**IV. Recalled to Life**

 _You grieve. Then you continue with your life. And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest, and you will weep. But this will happen less and less as time goes on. She is dead. You are alive. So live._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

* * *

 **1.**

 _There were only two things I could have done. And one of them would have been to just lie down and never get up again. It's like how many times can life hit you? When do the blows start to hurt? When do you just... stop?_

 _LYTA HALL – Sandman_

General Hux followed Captain Phasma's counsel to concentrate on the tasks before him and think as little as possible about Kylo Ren, and it worked out fine; Ren bothered him uncharacteristically little anyway these days. They crushed more pockets of resistance on Warlentta, Kashyyk and Abednedo in the next week, even managed to capture (and execute) the elusive Senator Gulay of Jianoo. The repairs of the _Supremacy_ were in full swing, still without the Supreme Leader's slightest interest or awareness. And General Armitage Hux regularly caught three to four hours of sleep every night. Things were going splendidly.

While his alleged right-hand-man caught up with his beauty sleep, the Supreme Leader of the First Order was scared to go to bed and didn't do so for as long a stretch at a time as he could possibly manage. For when he did sleep, he inevitably dreamt of his parents, of Snoke, of Skywalker, why even of Lor San Tekka admonishing him that he could not deny the truth that was his family. He felt haunted by the ghosts of the dead and hounded by the living. Was it possible to die of sheer bloody exhaustion? At twenty-five?

Only very rarely, he dreamt of Rey, but those dreams didn't give him a break either. She inevitably tried to kill him and more often than not, succeeded.

One of these days, he couldn't take it any longer and actively tried to make contact with her. It even worked (he couldn't say how, sheer desperation possibly). For all of ten seconds or so. She didn't even seem angry, just irritated.

'How did you do this? No, never mind. I don't want this.'

'I –'

'I don't want to hear this either.'

He opened his mouth for a reply but couldn't think of any outside of downright begging.

She gave him the smallest lopsided smile. 'You know what you've got to do, Ben. See you when you're ready. Or never.'

And thus, she moved her hand and zipped up the vision. He was impressed. Livid with anger, of course, but definitely impressed. As far as harsh rejections went though, this one actually lifted his spirits a little, enough to don his full armour and cloak (he had lost weight because he couldn't bring himself to eat, but nobody need notice _that_ ) and stomp up to the bridge in order to finish it with Hux once and for all.

Predictably, his appearance sent people scurrying like flushed Greepers, which was all the more hilarious because, true to the First Order spirit, these brave officers kept their decks in such clean order that they could have doubled as operation theatres. Lieutenant Draxo tried removing lintels from her uniform that weren't there, Lieutenant Mitaka polished a shining surface with his sleeve, Sub-Lieutenant Karver anxiously scrolled through reports he could probably recite from memory, and Captain Peavey delivered his report as if his life depended on it.

"Where is General Hux?"

"I regret to say I don't know, Supreme Leader, sir. The General doesn't always feel inclined to share this kind of information with me."

Kylo let his gaze wander across the room. "Anyone else?"

The replacement activities became a tad more frantic still.

"So what do you do when you need him?"

"We call his communicator, Supreme Leader, sir. Do you wish me to do so now?"

"No. No. But I'd be much obliged if you could point me to the department that handles these communications."

x X x

 **2.**

 _They went with songs to the battle, they were young,  
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.  
They were staunch to the end against odds uncountered:  
They fell with their faces to the foe._

 _They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:  
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.  
At the going down of the sun and in the morning  
We will remember them._

 _LAURENCE BINYON – For the Fallen_

Poe jumped out of his seat and hurled his earpiece onto the instrument panels.

"Goddammit! Not her too!"

Dry-mouthed, Rose forced herself to ask, "Who is it this time?"

"D'Acy."

They had been listening to their radio for two whole days, desperate for some communication, some proof of life from their comrades. But the line had become quiet, the attacks on Yashta, Greatry and Gharmar had been followed by raids on Kashyyk, Abednedo, Jianoo and now Warlentta, and the only news they ever heard were of even more losses. They should have considered themselves lucky, as their arrival on Warlentta had been scheduled for the very next day, but none of them even thought of that in this moment.

"Who's still left?"

"You mean except us?"

"I was being serious!"

"So was I."

"Ruby – Pyter – Connix – Frandon…"

"But – blimey – who's in charge now?"

Finn gave Poe a pensive glance. "It's you, isn't it? _Commander_ Dameron?"

Rose nodded slowly. "He's right. With Frump and D'Acy dead, you are the acting leader of the Resistance by default, Poe."

"Don't be ridiculous!"

Rey looked around. "You mean that's _it_?"

"Thank you for the vote of confidence, kid."

"No, I mean – you really are our leader now?"

"No! No, I'm not! And with no more than ten people at most, I dare say the _Resistance_ is pretty much dead."

He looked into a row of very long faces, but all he could do was shake his head and avoid their expectant gazes.

x X x

 **3\. Starstruck**

The technical Communications Department was located deep inside the ship in a rather small dingy room that could not have made a greater contrast to the bridge. Its walls were covered in shelves brimming over with boxes and devices in various states of disintegration, so were large parts of the floor and desks. There were posters and photos and uncountable notes stuck to every surface and the four inhabitants would _not_ have passed muster if Captain Phasma had ever got hold of them like _that_.

They froze when the automatic door opened to reveal Kylo Ren, even the kid with an actual _drawing_ of Kylo Ren (who scarcely trusted his eyes) next to his monitor looked on the verge of fainting. He was not even eighteen, dark-skinned and blue-haired, and he had altered his standard issue tunic by stitching in uneven but bold lettering ' _Kylo Ren Rules_ ' onto his chest.

"Stand easy," Kylo said, for once glad that Hux had such a pompous way about him and such distinct diction that it was hard to forget the actual drill commands once you had heard him snap them.

A _slightly_ older man and the girl next to him jumped to their feet, the Kylo Ren aficionado fell from his chair, and one gangly youth with horrible acne asked, "You mean, like – actual standing?"

The grown-up guy who had been the first on his feet tried to pull the boy up unobtrusively, his face a mask of unveiled terror. Kylo couldn't but stare at them. "Name and rank, soldier?" he asked almost insecurely.

It turned out that the acne-ridden youth was called Bixby, the girl was called Senapa ('Snaps to my mates'), the Kylo Ren fan Udu-u, and the slightly older man whose only open sign of eccentricity was a lamp on his desk which was an actual model of Death Star II, was Sub-Lieutenant Nath, the only one of them who was actually a soldier. They were as stunned by his appearance as he was by theirs, and a conversation developed only slowly, punctuated now and then by Udu-u's whispered adulations, 'Supreme Leader, I am your greatest fan!', 'I only joined because of you, Supreme Leader!' or 'Supreme Leader, could you _please_ sign my Knights of Ren poster.' ( _Yes_ , he _really_ had a large poster depicting thirteen slick-looking individuals – none of them recognisable to their master – in a hellish landscape with 'Knights of Ren forever' written underneath in blood-red.)

Sub-Lieutenant Nath tried to keep him from making an idiot of himself (or getting himself killed, as was clearly on the forefront of the soldier's fears), but Udu-u was too much in awe to perceive anything but the presence of his idol.

By and by, they explained what they were doing, between the lines Kylo could tell that they weren't used to anyone taking an actual interest in their work (as long as everything went well, of course) and after half an hour, they had relaxed enough to lose the 'Oh my God, I am going to die' expression on their faces. At least Nath, Senapa and Bixby did. Udu-u continued to look as star-struck as ever. They showed him their equipment and explained the actual range of their expertise. It was interesting as well as very complicated. To his own dumbfounded surprise though, Kylo found that he understood more of it than he should have. They used words that he was absolutely certain to never have heard in his life, yet he comprehended their meaning – which in turn impressed the youngsters (even Nath wasn't yet twenty-five) and increased their eagerness.

Eventually, he turned to Udu-u. "Allow me an experiment, will you?"

" _Of course_ , Supreme Leader, sir! _Anything!_ "

He reached out his hand and entered the boy's mind, which didn't put up the least resistance. Anything indeed! It was quite easy to extract information this way (if you knew how), but a little more complicated to make them do something, all the more if you had only a vague idea about that something yourself. Not with such a keen specimen like Udu-u though; the kid manipulated the keyboard before him with fluency and eventually all the data that Kylo wanted flashed on the screen. The other three were perfectly spooked out.

Kylo withdrew and the boy didn't even flinch or slump (they usually did). He sensed that this was a dream-come-true for the kid, and only to repay the favour – and the disturbing amount of admiration – he asked, "You really want my signature?"

 _That_ was when Udu-u nearly started to cry.

x X x

 **4.**

What he had made the boy do was this: having figured out that you could locate anyone on the _Finalizer_ by sending a signal to their communicator without it going off while simultaneously targeting it, he had made Udu-u manipulate the code for everybody's communicators to be able to receive such invisible calls which would in turn show their actual location. He had also picked up a small device which enabled him to do exactly that from any given place on board. Now he sent out a call to General Hux, saw the man's communicator flashing up on the small monitor, and set out to pay him a little visit.

He couldn't really say what he meant by it. His initial resolve to go and kill the general as an act of vengeance had somewhat evaporated; if anything, he wanted to peeve Hux (always a reward in and of itself), but he sensed there was more to it than just some minor victory in their ongoing petty feud, more even than his thirst for revenge.

Presently, the General was in the Stormtroopers' part of the ship (Hux was just the type to enjoy a good spot check), but when Kylo arrived and entered the office in question, he surprised the man – and a woman that it took Kylo a second to understand was Captain Phasma – in deep conversation, their heads so close their foreheads nearly touched.

It was like walking in on one's parents (another of those memories that Kylo would have killed for to forget), and he instinctively reacted that way, too. "Sorry!" he mumbled and turned on his heels as fast as he could.

He was halfway down the corridor when he heard Phasma's voice. "Supreme Leader, did you want to see me?"

He came to a halt. It wouldn't do to make Hux suspicious, and it _had_ looked as if he had come to see Captain Phasma in her office, right?

"Yes, actually I did. I want to inspect the troops."

"Right now?"

"Only if it isn't too inconvenient for you, Captain," he snarled. "Of course _right now_."

Three minutes later, her helmet tightly screwed back on, Phasma followed him three respectful steps behind through rows and rows and rows of Stormtroopers. Occasionally, she used her baton to hit a soldier on the head, or arm, or foot, until Kylo understood that she reprimanded them for something being wrong with either their posture or their armour. She, too, explained in great detail about her men, using the most obfuscating language possible, unlike with the technicians though, he had no spontaneous insight into the jargon.

"How many soldiers are stationed on the _Finalizer_ , Captain?"

"At this point, one hundred thousand. Usually, it's eighty-two thousand, including nineteen thousand officers, and eight legions of Stormtroopers. That is eight thousand men," she added unnecessarily. Even he knew so much.

"Thank you for the clarification, Captain. It is _much_ appreciated," he mocked. "Why do we have more than usual?"

He sensed her hesitation before answering slowly, "Why, because of the surplus from the _Supremacy_."

"And how many is it supposed to carry?"

"The ship is built to carry up to eighteen legions, Supreme Leader."

"So why do we have not even half of that number?"

Even with a helmet on, her pose conveyed astonishment. "We – we try to get by on as little resources as possible, Supreme Leader."

He was only asking questions to keep up the façade, but this point did intrigue him. "Shouldn't we have a full complement of soldiers?"

"Sir?"

"This is a flagship of the First Order, after all."

"But Supreme Leader, sir – in order to carry more soldiers on board, we would have to withdraw them from other ships, which would leave them too thinly staffed to function properly in case of an attack."

"Can't we get more soldiers on total?"

Phasma, mask and all, was clearly taken aback. "But Supreme Leader – that would take _at_ _least_ fifteen years!"

"I beg your pardon, Captain?"

And thus he learnt, for the first time since joining the cause, how the First Order got their elite troops. It was horrifying. He had never before asked himself the question – why should he have! He had somehow assumed they simply _enlisted!_

But the ghastly truth was that they _bought_ _children_. Or abducted them straightaway. When Hux so proudly claimed that his soldiers were trained _since birth_ , he meant it literally! 'Give me the child young and I will give you the man in his full prime' was something Snoke had occasionally said. From his training, he knew this was also a maxim of the old Jedi Order, which wouldn't even accept students above a certain age. Nine or ten, apparently, was already too old to mould them. Luke Skywalker had thought so, too; whenever Ben Solo hadn't done as he ought to, Luke (a man who hadn't known what the Force was until he was _nineteen!_ ) had grimed that they had started his training too late – and _he_ had been eight when starting.

Luke Skywalker had groomed his young nephew to become his successor, the greatest Jedi master of his age – the only, really, as the Jedi had been all but dead. Boy, had he failed or what, not only in the eventual outcome, but in assessing his material. Ben Solo hadn't wanted to become a leader of the Jedi (or anyone else, come to that), he had seen enough (or rather: too little) of his mother to understand that leadership demanded a level of commitment that excluded everything else, and was too much of his father's son not to resent the lack of independence that such responsibilities necessarily entailed. Leia Organa's son could not shirk his duties though; he had tried to ignore his reservations and take on the burden regardless. But Luke had sensed that his heart wasn't in it and tried harder. And harder. And harder. (Obstinacy was just another trait of the Skywalker heritage.) Kylo remembered well how mistrustful his uncle had been, how cautious, how distant, how intent to humble him. He hadn't been any good in concealing his growing frustration with his nephew and made it increasingly clear that he _would_ shape him in his own image, come hell and high water, and if he had to break the kid's spirit first, so be it. But Ben Solo was a Skywalker, too, and while diligently doing everything that was demanded of him, his inner resistance had grown rampant at the same rate like Luke's determination.

Perhaps because it all reminded him of his damned uncle, Kylo took this – not even he was cynical enough to call it 'recruitment policy' – really personal, and for once he didn't even mind that his disgust showed all too clearly in his face.

Behind her visor Phasma watched him with knitted brows, and for the first time, she truly and whole-heartedly concurred with Hux's estimate: This wet little milksop could impossibly be their leader.

x X x

 **5.**

 _A tavern is not a destination ...  
Merely a place to rest upon the way._

 _A CENTAUR – Sandman_

The _Millennium Falcon_ flew through space at a sedate pace and without aim. They had not heard from anyone since the attack on Kashyyk, but Rey was the only one insisting that no news was good news in these circumstances. They had nowhere to go; without any kind of intelligence they dared not land on any planet to stock up on fuel, oxygen and provisions either, all of which were already waning.

The young ones really had to pull themselves together not to lose hope, but Chewbacca, seasoned by a long life spent smuggling and fighting, had more resources to draw from. He had been in too many tight corners, seemingly doomed, to be worried _now_.

'Come on then, let's go to Takodana,' he suggested to his captain.

"What for?"

'Supplies, if nothing else.'

Poe gave no answer. In a way, he was hit the hardest by the present situation. Cocky and over-confident he might be, but he had never considered himself a real leader. Give him an X-wing fighter and a target and he was at his best. Face him with decisions concerning the bombarding of an overwhelming enemy and he came up with a dozen ideas at the drop of a hat. But he needed someone else to make the overall decisions, provide the means and determine the targets. He had no idea what he was supposed to do next, and that the three youngsters seemed to look to him for guidance unnerved him.

"They know we've used Takodana before," he replied at last. "They're bound to control the airspace."

'Such small-minded niggles never kept Han from anything.'

"Well, I'm not Han Solo," Poe snapped and regretted it in the next moment, so he added in a jocular tone, "For a start, I'm a much nattier dresser."

Meanwhile, Rey was beset by her own worries, and if it had _only_ been her own, she might even have shrugged them just off as was her wont. But she had bloody Kylo Ren's mood to battle with as well, like an ever-present background noise, dragging on her, infecting her with its tetchiness and sadness and general muddle.

She set great store by Luke's opinion and counsel – after all, he was the only real Jedi she had ever met, and if he said some disparaging things about them, she thought that this touch of humility let his wisdom shine even brighter. Regarding his advice on his nephew, she knew in her heart of hearts that he was right, that she had to leave him to his own devices and _seriously_ – Finn and the others were right, too. The man didn't really deserve her sympathy. But deserve it or not, she found it hard to wall herself off from his struggles.

At first, she had merely meant to distract herself from all this, but soon she realised the potential of the idea that had struck her one night. She had salvaged Luke's broken sword from the wreckage of the _Supremacy_ that day, chiefly to avoid Kylo Ren laying his hands on it as a matter of principle.

She soon saw that it was broken beyond hope of repair; the kyber crystal was fractured and did not respond to superglue; the casing was so blown that welding it back together would have been impossible (not that she didn't try regardless). Giving up though wasn't part of her make-up, and if there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her ability to fix things that everybody else would long have given up on and discarded as trash.

Rose cast a long glance at her drawings when she sauntered through the hold before remarking, "This is brilliant."

"Thank you!"

The other woman pointed at a sketch. "Have you thought about using Terenthium for this?"

Rey halted, squinted at the sketch for half a minute, then looked up in joyous astonishment. " _That's_ truly brilliant! It'll be at least twenty times lighter like that."

Rose tilted her head. "Yeah, but then again… I reckon you do want a certain weight to achieve more impact, don't you?"

"Yes, but when I use Terenthium _and_ Rhodium, I can level them for perfect balance –"

They were interrupted by Poe passing. "Dinner's ready in half an hour, so don't stuff yourself with snacks," he said and grinned at Rey. "Looking at you in particular, kiddo."

Out of the five of them, Poe was the only one capable of preparing a decent meal, even with their extremely limited means. Perhaps it wasn't that surprising; Rose, Finn and Rey had lived on synthesized food for most of their lives, whereas Chewbacca's idea of sustenance largely consisted of putting some animal on a skewer and roast it over open fire.

"Rose, can you look at the navigational unit," he went on, half through the door, "either it's got a glitch – _another_ glitch I should say – or one of Chewie's damned birds pulled out the wiring. _Again_. Seriously, when is the moment when it stops being a pet and starts being a veritable infestation? And he won't even let me fry them."

Rey watched the two of them leave with a broad smile before turning back to her heaps of papers. The Terenthium idea was intriguing to say the least and engrossed her so much she scarcely noticed Finn coming in a quarter of an hour later.

"What is this?" he asked.

"At first I thought I could fix it, but the crystal is broken in half," she replied absent-mindedly.

Pretending he understood what she meant by this, he went on, "So what are you doing with it, then?"

"You could say I'm repurposing it …"

"As a really fancy tin opener?"

Rey had only half-listened and cast him an indignant look now. "This," she said solemnly, "was the light sword of _Luke Skywalker_."

"The operative word being ' _was'_ ," he retorted, a little stung.

"Yes, exactly."

"So what are you doing with it now?"

"You'll see," she murmured and bowed over her sketches once more.

Finn waited if she was going to say anything else, but when she didn't, he trudged away back to the bridge, once again thinking that Rey was really changing from the girl he had met. "What's all that secrecy about?" he grumbled.

Rose cast her eyes to the ceiling and suppressed a deep sigh. She really liked Finn, she wasn't even jealous about his obvious obsession with Rey, but the way he went on and on about the girl really got on her nerves at times.

"I reckon she doesn't want to make a big thing about it before she isn't ready," she said with a mediocre attempt at patience. "You know, just in case it doesn't work out."

"So _you_ know what it is?!"

"Yes, I think I do."

"She told _you_?!"

Liking him or not, Rose wasn't prepared to take that kind of tone kindly. "She didn't _tell_ me; I can read exploded diagrams. Get over yourself, Finn," she said through clenched teeth before leaving.

"Looks like you and me are the only ones getting along here," Poe remarked with a grin at Chewbacca in the co-pilot seat next to him.

'Only as long as you don't get a scratch on this baby,' Chewbacca answered in Shyriiwook and expelled a roaring laugh while stroking the instrument panel.

x X x

 **6\. Hux And Phasma, Sitting In A Tree…**

The next time he saw Hux, he didn't bother to suppress a smirk. Hux and Phasma, eh? Well well well. Hux returned the sneer with a slightly worried face, his jaw and shoulders on the defensive.

Did the man seriously believe Kylo _cared_ what he did in his free time?! The presumptuousness was somewhat galling, and when he later came back to it (simply because there was only little Hux ever did that did not annoy his leader), he found that his astonishment was in fact rooted elsewhere. He had never actually _probed_ Hux's mind, but even as a child he had been strong enough with the Force to pick things up without actually breaking into people's heads. Fear mostly, anger, sadness, excitement, secrecy, grief, love or joy. Those kinds of general emotions. And with Hux, he had long ago understood that the man took absolutely no interest in women whatsoever.

Kylo was vaguely aware that these two had known each other for _ages_. So how likely was it that he had disrupted a clandestine romantic tête-à-tête between them? Clandestine – yes; tête-à-tête – _literally_. But he would bet his grandfather's charred helmet that there was no romantic attachment between his weaselly second-in-command and the valkyrie leader of his bloody troops!

x X x


	5. The Knights of Ren

**V. THE KNIGHTS OF REN**

* * *

 **1\. A Call To Arms**

 _The child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel it's warmth._

 _AFRICAN PROVERB_

Ben Solo had trained with his uncle for nine _very_ long years, until he had left the Academy one breezy summer's night aged seventeen. Some people assumed that he had then searched, found and joined Snoke, but in fact, this had come much later. The four years in between, he himself might have termed 'the Wilderness Years' (he had a proclivity for the dramatic), which wouldn't have been far off the mark, because most of it had been spent in the literal and proverbial wilderness and quite wildly, too. These four years, he had been with the Knights of Ren, though they hadn't yet called themselves that half of the time.

At first, they had simply been four rather desperate teenage fugitives on the run, with no money, no plan, no perspective, no place to go in a galaxy allegedly full of chances and choices and nothing to go back to either, frightened and shell-shocked and convinced that Luke Skywalker would hunt them down and kill them. There had been Jem and Bail, sixteen and from Ord Mantell both, and inseparable for as long as they both could remember, and Olly, only fourteen and formerly Ben's roommate. Being ever so slightly the oldest of them, they had looked up to Ben, who had felt responsible for them, thinking that somehow, he had got them all into this mess, for which in all fairness they had never blamed him. Unfortunately, he didn't have a clue what to do, or how to survive under the circumstances, and they had gotten by just so, relying on theft (petty larceny of food, he had reasoned, was somewhat justifiable) and hidden in large freighters to move and sleep.

But wherever they had gone to, it had all been the same. The galaxy was one bleak and dreary mess without mercy or compassion, the weak and the meek got pushed around and direly exploited. Destitute teenage boys clearly trying to avoid attention had been at the bottom of any food chain at all. The four of them had escaped a lot of dicey situations either by coincidence or in some cases because each of them was strong with the Force and they could better ward off assailants than normal people, but one dark night after almost half a year, their luck had finally seemed to run out and they had been held up by a gang of bounty hunters who had recognised Ben Solo and realised how much money he'd be worth to his parents.

"I bet _Princess_ Leia will pay a _king's_ ransom to get you back, laddie," one of them had smirked.

There had been more than a dozen of them, all armed to their teeth, but the boys had still somehow managed to overwhelm them after all, killing all but one, the by far youngest, who had been clever enough to change allegiances when guessing that the tide was going to turn. This had been Vigo Fett (who claimed he was a very distant cousin twelve times removed of the famous Jango, incidentally), Force-sensitive like them, a formidable fighter, and much more worldly-wise (not to say jaded). He had mocked them for using their powers only to run away; he had also known the suitably shady places where they could find shelter, and suggested that they should all wear masks, not only so Ben Solo could 'hide his fucking V.I.O. face', but because the dark visors hid their youth as well. Well, putting on a helmet without matching costume looked ridiculous, so they had fashioned the prototype of a uniform, heavily inspired by the look of Darth Vader, _the_ coolest guy the universe had ever seen, but with more of a guerrilla fighter edge. Amazingly, once they had kitted themselves out like this in all black, people had _instantly_ taken a very different stance when encountering them. At first, they had only looked dangerous, but their confidence had grown with every victorious bar fight, every thug, bully, foe they had vanquished, until they had become as dangerous as they looked, too.

They had met other young men who knew how to use the Force and were equally lost, such as the Feenick brothers who had run away from the Naval academy, or Tick Hollaran, who had sprung from a juvenile prison for accidentally Force choking another guy, or Basil, a runaway slave. They were ten by then, and someone – he couldn't remember who – had come up with the idea to give themselves new names to match their incredible _coolness_. They had tried out this and that (discarding 'Dark Disciples', 'Black Dragons', 'Black Rathtars', 'Black Brothers' – yes, they'd been somewhat fixated on the colour – 'Force Fighters', 'Cutting Crew', 'Sons of Siths' and 'Angels of Death') and settled on 'Knights of Ren' eventually. Ben Solo had become 'Kylo Ren', Olly 'Olija Ren', Jem and Bail 'Phyrrus Ren' and 'Dathomir Ren' respectively and even Vigo Fett had exchanged his famous name for 'Jango Ren'.

Around this time, they had started experimenting with the powers of the Dark side, too, after they had been joined by their three last members. These had been Neo Ren and Malo Ren, ten years older than the others, almost as powerful with the Force as Kylo Ren and trained by none other than Snoke, whose sinister legend had started to spread through the galaxy, and Zak. But Zak was a whole story to himself.

They had embraced the powers the Dark side had given them like new toys, and talking of toys – they had built themselves new lightsabres as well to emulate the good old Sith spirit. For a year, perhaps, they had fooled around like this until it had started to dawn on Ben – Kylo Ren by then, by now the most powerful of them all by far – that in order to _really_ advance, he would need another master. He had been twenty-one, exactly the right age to leave the childish follies behind.

He hadn't seen his old comrades-in-arms since then but, like the rest of the galaxy, he had heard stories. Unlike the rest of the galaxy though, he knew that the stories, just like Udu-u's poster, had not much in common with the real thing. To be quite frank, he hadn't much thought of them either, but with things being as they were and Hux obviously planning some sort of coup, it might be just about time to meet up with them again.

x X x

 **2.**

"Tatatataaa!" Rey cried with her broadest smile and brandished her staff. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present: the galaxy's first _lightsabre staff!_ "

She ignited the two blades, each fashioned out of one half of the kyber crystal which had used to power Luke's old sword. They came to life with the characteristic sound – in stereo so to speak – and cast their glorious blue light on her head and feet like halos.

Everybody cheered and applauded, Poe made cat-calls and Chewbacca roared – so loudly in fact that the warning signal beeping wasn't heard by anyone for a half minute or so while they all gathered round Rey in curiosity and admiration.

"Is there anything that girl can't fix," Poe said, clapping her on the shoulder. Only then he heard it. "Oh shi—"

The first blast hit the _Millennium Falcon_ almost squarely and threw them all off their feet.

x X x

 **3\. A Failure To Believe**

 _In the various states of society, armies are recruited from very different motives. Barbarians are urged by the love of war; the citizens of a free republic may be prompted by a principle of duty; the subjects, or at least the nobles, of a monarchy, are animated by a sentiment of honor; but the timid and luxurious inhabitants of a declining empire must be allured into the service by the hopes of profit, or compelled by the dread of punishment._

 _EDWARD GIBBON – The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_

The majority of high-ranking officers on board of the _Exterminator_ had joined the First Order out of a flaming desire to serve the cause and see the Republic burn. The lower ranks were more varied in their motivations; some had enlisted for the steady pay or a sense of adventure, others because they had realised it was not a good idea to stand on the wrong side of the Order; some had been more or less press-ganged and some hadn't seen any other chance to get a roof over their heads. Since bombarding cities which didn't know what was coming couldn't actually be counted as real combat, none of the younger ones had ever seen any outside of simulation, but they had heard enough to thank their lucky stars on a daily basis.

When the order came to man a dozen TIE-fighters and bomb a freighter, they weren't worried yet. A few of the pilots were quite thrilled even – an actual _fight!_ At last! This changed instantly once the rumour spread that this wasn't just any old freighter, but the infamous _Millennium Falcon_. You must have lived under a stone somewhere in the Outer Rim not to have heard of the _Millennium Falcon_ , and in the tales about her, she had taken on legendary dimensions, not in size of course, but in terms of sheer invincibility.

And psychological warfare matters. Any other ship as severely damaged as the _Millennium Falcon_ already was when the fighters swarmed out would have been easy prey. The inexperienced pilots however, who had been trained exhaustively how to shoot down either X-wing fighters or Republican destroyers, were flummoxed by her unusual combination of great agility and flexible firepower. None of them actually believed that they could bring her down, and combined with the fact that she shot out of all cannons at them, none of them did. Unfortunately, the _Exterminator's_ commander, Captain Chandrila, hesitated to fire at her once she was surrounded by his own people (his superiors had made it very clear what they thought of 'waste') – and suddenly, the whole question became academic because she had somehow made it into hyperdrive and was gone like a blink.

Captain Chandrila groaned as he sunk back onto his commander's chair, listening to his adjutant's litany of loss. He fingered his collar which was suddenly much too tight. Surely this was what it would feel like once the Supreme Leader got hold of him.

x X x

 **4.**

 _Never despair. Never surrender._

 _RORSCHACH – Watchmen_

"Finn, you are one crack shot. You too, kid," Poe wheezed once they were out of hyperspace. Rey had just climbed out of the gun turret and wiped her brows.

"And you are one hell of a pilot, Commander!" she retorted with a wide grin, breathless but exhilarated. Cheating certain death had this effect on her. "I didn't think we'd get out of that one alive."

Thumping the instruments, Chewbacca made his opinion known that they might still die, simply because the _Falcon_ was on the verge of falling apart, and really, really for real this time – they were lucky that she still had a _roof_.

Poe turned back to Rey. "Let's hope you can fix the old girl as well as you fixed Skywalker's old sword."

But when she inspected the damage, she knew she would be lucky if she could mend the ship enough to even reach a safe haven. The escape through hyperspace had given her the rest.

Rose had followed her with a note-pad and looked over her shoulder. "Maybe I could help you… I was in maintenance on the _Raddus_ ," she murmured diffidently.

Rey turned around, one part of her astonished, the other instantly and deeply ashamed never to have given Rose's rather obvious qualifications any thought at all before now. "What do _you_ make of it?" she asked.

Rose opened her mouth for a reply but was cut short by the two droids' frantic beeps. Rey still had difficulties to understand R2-D2, but BB-8's part made it clear that the two of them were much aggrieved and deeply ashamed not to have taken better care, busy as they had been to carry on their petty little feud. She patted them both soothingly.

"It's going to be alright, surely," she said and was answered by R2-D2's rapid-fire beeps that she should could make only little sense of. "What?"

"He said that," Rose translated, "to all intents and purposes, we should all be dead already. Sucked out into outer space."

Rey gave a little chuckle. "Yes… I often wonder what _is_ keeping this thing together in the first place."

Rose smiled. "Hope."

x X x

 **5.**

 _Trauma is not what happens to us, but what  
we hold inside us in the absence of an  
empathetic witness._

 _PETER LEVINE – The Unspoken Voice_

They came as bidden. If nothing else was a testament to Kylo Ren's supremacy, surely this feat must count, because it was a part of the oath of the Knights of Ren to bow to no one, which technically would include their master – but they had been young and not intellectually rigorous enough to think about this inconsistency when crafting that oath years and years back, and he had never really put it to the test before.

To pay back that not wholly anticipated courtesy, Kylo would have welcomed them when their ship arrived, but as it happened, he had been headed off by General Hux, and just when he had been about to tell the guy to go to hell, Hux had used the magic words.

Kylo spun around. "What about the _Millennium Falcon_?" he snarled. So he heard the whole spine-crawling story, which made him temporarily forget his august guests. The _Falcon_ – his father's treasured piece of junk – the ship in which Kylo had learnt how to fly – the ship presumably carrying _her_ – had been hit _directly_ – _twice_. And escaped, after bringing down nine out of twelve TIE-interceptors.

His voice trembled and he didn't bother to control it. "You are telling me that after taking two strikes from a _destroyer_ , she knocked off three forth of our squadron still?"

"Yes. It would seem that none of the pilots had any actual combat experience."

" _Of course not_. What about that commander? He seen any outside of simulation?"

"Apparently the commander dared not torpedo her once our TIE-fighters were in the air –"

Kylo gave a short, almost hysterical laugh. "The way it sounds, he couldn't have destroyed many more of them than they did already."

"Supreme Leader, I shall take full responsibility –"

"Oh _shut up_ , will you!" Kylo knocked him off his feet with a flick of his hand, then passed it over his face in genuine agitation. "What about the damage?"

"The TIE-fighters are a complete write-off, Supreme Leader," Hux answered from the floor with an astonishing amount of dignity as well as mulishness. Was the man deliberately trying to provoke him, or could he really be that thick?!

"The _Millennium Falcon_ , General," he pressed through gritted teeth.

"Hard to say without evaluating the actual recordings," Hux replied as he picked himself up. "I sent for them at once, but I thought it imperative to inform you before anything else."

"Call me as soon as you have them. Without delay!"

"I'm sorry, Supreme Leader, I didn't make myself clear. We have them already, I just didn't wait to review them before coming to you."

Kylo closely examined that answer for any reason at all to blow off Hux once more, but finding none, they headed back to the bridge together in order to watch the footage. It took his all not to wince when seeing the _Falcon_ hit – from all he remembered of her, her roof hadn't been that stable to begin with. Yes, she had eventually escaped through hyperspace – but heaven knew what _that_ had done to her, seeing the state she was in!

The arrival of a rushed ensign spared him further dark premonitions for now. The young man had clearly been running, fumbled his gasping way through the military salute and wheezed, "They're here!"

Even Kylo, who had awaited _them_ ten minutes earlier, took a moment to understand the boy. "Where are they?"

"Well, Sergeant N'Kama had no other order, so we – _he_ – thought we should take them to the assembly room."

The assembly room! That _was_ an inauspicious beginning. But the kid couldn't know that and neither could his sergeant, so Kylo just grinded his teeth and turned to Hux once more. "We will deal with this later," he gnarled and left without further ado.

The assembly room, honestly! He had a vision before his inner eye of that sleek, huge, high-domed room, with its elaborate platform to project Snoke's hologram in style – and knowing his troops even a little, he was sure they had turned on each and every effing light, too. Well, maybe he should count himself lucky; at least it wasn't Snoke's actual throne room.

As it turned out, that should be his only piece of luck that day. He managed to ignore this certainty for a while, but he had known it as soon as he had entered the room. For a start, he was at a heavy disadvantage for being the only one not wearing a mask; none of the Knights of Ren had even opened their visors, though it eventually transpired that this made their identification much easier, because once some of them had removed their helmets after all, he found he would have struggled to recognise them.

They greeted him with a chorus of loth-cat calls, distorted through their voice changers, and someone jeered, "All hail the Supreme Leader!", which was the cue for some mock First Order salutes and even a couple of curtseys. Yeah, well, he'd asked for that, hadn't he.

On the far left, he easily identified Jango Ren (formerly Vigo Fett), wearing a black version of his infamous relative's helmet. Next to him stood Dathomir Ren (his mask had little attachments on top that resembled small horns) and Phyrrus Ren (his mask a simple variation of Darth Vader's, in fact, which suddenly struck his grandson as utterly ludicrous); in a past life those two had been called Bail Malbus and Jem Draven and wouldn't have frightened even a frail old Patitite with a heart condition. Beside them came Soven Ren (one could say the intellectual of the gang), Blader Ren (who had chosen his moniker because he preferred to fight with two swords at once and who wasn't so much wearing a mask but a really large hood because traumatised by heaven knew what, he couldn't endure wearing a helmet) and Neo Ren, whose mask wasn't anything as intimidating as his actual physique, being nothing short of seven feet and appositely barrel-chested.

In the middle he spotted Malo Ren in his skull mask and the brothers Devan Ren and Devo Ren in their matching gas masks, as well as Teeyan Ren whose visor was basically a grill (it really was, it had been fashioned out of a discarded glider radiator grill). And then there was Olly – pardon, Olija Ren, though to Kylo he would always remain plain Olly, if only in his thoughts – who took off his mask shaped like the head of a giant insect when making eye contact with his old mate.

Olly had been a soft-spoken, humble boy, only fourteen years old that fateful night when his roommate Ben Solo had woken up to see his uncle standing over him in his sleep, his face distorted and an ignited lightsabre in his hand. Olly had been so upset he had actually started to cry as they had picked their way through the debris of the caved-in roof to get outside.

"Hurry up, hurry up, what if he's still alive, oh Malachor, he'll murder us all!" little Olly had wailed, and shrieked loudly when three of the other apprentices, older than them, had stepped in their way, roughly demanding what had happened. Ben Solo had been too shell-shocked to give any utterance at all, but Olly, crying harder and harder, had tried to explain. For his pains, he had been shoved aside almost immediately as the three older boys had drawn their swords – not in a spirit of protection though, but to strike Ben Solo down. He had defended himself with the same helpless automatism with which he had parried Luke's strike, with which he had brought the roof down. He was much stronger with the Force than any of his peers, but they were three and much larger. It had been Olly's screams which had brought the others running, among them Bail and Jem and soon they had all been fighting (and more or less by accident become the Jedi Killers of infamy). All but Olly. The kid had never touched a weapon before that night.

You wouldn't have believed this though when you looked at him now. The short, meek boy had put on two hundred pounds and grown another twenty inches and a jaw to crack nuts. They now shared a look of mutual, almost friendly appreciation.

Maybe Kylo would have given him, who was the closest thing he had ever had for a friend, a smile, but the sight of the man next to him drove away any such kindly thought.

On the far right, there stood Zak. Zak who had been last to join them. Zak who had simply refused to pick a cool new name, refused, too, to adopt the mandatory suffix. Zak, who was just a tick shorter than Neo, but even broader in the shoulder department and endowed with hands like shovels, and an expert with any weapon ever devised in the galaxy. Zak, who was always just one misplaced glance away from exploding like the grenade that his mask symbolised (people who thought Kylo Ren had a bit of a temper had clearly never met Zak, whose fuse was even shorter than his attention span). Zak was a menace.

Kylo Ren had become master of the Knights of Ren after beating Zak in a fight that had lasted for almost three hours and which Zak had only conceded to have lost once he had lost a hand and half a foot, too. It had been more of an honorary title even then, the deeply impressed award for winning that fiercest of battles, in which Zak (Kylo was as sure of this now as he had been then, he had felt it as clearly as if it had been written on the other man's visor) hadn't been out for blood but for the kill. Despite lasting for hours and hours, most of it was nothing but a blur in his memory, but he knew he had only won in the end because his loathing for Zak had been even deeper than that one's hatred for him. Zak opened his visor to cast him a sneer and as their gazes met, Kylo knew at once that nothing of the good old spirit of enmity was lost between them – _quite_ the opposite, in fact – and vaguely wondered if he shouldn't have killed him then, when he had the chance. He doubted he would ever be so lucky again.

The escort of Stormtroopers that had followed their leader for whatever reason (sheer bloody curiosity, if Kylo was any judge) was visibly discomfited by the surplus of assault weapons in the room (Phyrrus Ren was kitted out with enough grenades to explode half of the _Finalizer_ ; Devan Ren was carrying an actual _rocket launcher_ ) and observed the scene in growing alarm, which would have been tangible even to someone not Force-sensitive.

When Zak approached Kylo, he boxed him in the stomach, which prompted a dozen Stormtroopers to brandish their blasters, which were in turn ripped from their hands by a languid wave of Malo Ren's hand.

"It's alright," Kylo gasped at the troops, trying not to double over.

Zak leered. "I owed you that one, Ren." He flexed the metal prosthesis substituting his right hand in its entirety.

"Lost yet another fight, uh?"

"There was a slight – accident," Zak cast Soven Ren a deadly smirk.

Meanwhile, the Stormtroopers retrieved their weapons and didn't bother any longer not to goggle. They had never seen such a sight. All Knights of Ren were dressed in black (naturally), but not the deep black of their leader, but fading and crusted with dirt. Their armours looked so heavy that they contrasted like eagles to butterflies compared to the Stormtroopers' own, their helmets looked like the stuff one saw in nightmares, even their heavy black boots looked dangerously impressive. Compared to _these_ guys, Kylo Ren in full armour and mask looked like an elegantly made-up gentleman of sunny disposition.

Clearly, they had similar thoughts. "Fancy place," Devo Ren remarked derisively, ostentatiously gazing around.

"Is that an actual _throne_?!" his brother tittered, indicating at the accursed platform.

Malo Ren snarled, "You always _were_ a pampered little prince, Ren."

"Pfassk! Now I remember how I hated all this stuff," Neo Ren, at one time a disciple of Snoke, too, remarked, head-shaking.

Malo Ren – Snoke's other former apprentice – nodded. "And it's gotten even more ridiculous since then. Haven't you seen the fancy ornaments in the hangar?"

Kylo, who had never spotted as much as one piece of decoration in the hangar or elsewhere on the ship, strongly suspected he meant the trapezoid rod system constituting the actual fire sprinklers but couldn't bring himself to explain the difference. He suddenly remembered what he seemed to have chosen to forget in the years since last seeing them – these guys were blasted idiots, plain and simple.

"Where's your mask, Ren?"

"Oooh, but that scar is nice."

"I wouldn't wear my visor down either if I had such a pretty scar."

"I always itched to give you one myself, Ren. Who's the lucky guy?"

"And what did you do with his entrails?"

Yep, these were the Knights of Ren, and they bore no similarity whatsoever to the smart figures on Udu-u's poster.

x X x

 **6.**

"Have you seen these brutes!" General Hux gasped. It was a rhetorical question. Everyone on board of the _Supremacy_ able of coming up with the remotest pretext had tried catching a look at the notorious Knights of Ren.

"Boy, did I see them," Phasma answered nevertheless, her tone denoting amusement as well as appreciation. She didn't often come across men as tall as she was – but the Knights of Ren boasted no less than three such specimens with the shoulder width to carry it off. She admired power when she saw it.

"I mean _honestly!_ "

"Yes, me too."

"These guys are nothing but scruffy thugs!"

"Yes, well. If I was their drill sergeant, I'd have to reprimand them for their personal hygiene and the state of their uniforms, I'll give you that."

"You reckon he wants them as his new Praetorian guards?"

"I _reckon_ he knows them better than believing they'd take the job on."

"Naturally. They're – _anarchists!_ "

Which was the strongest term of abuse Armitage Hux had in his arsenal. Lawlessness in general was anathema to him, dissolution another.

"What would he need Praetorian guards for anyway?" Phasma merrily continued. "Either he managed to off the last batch, or stood up to their killer. Either way, he seems good all by himself."

"Not funny, Phasma!"

"No, seriously, it's hilarious when you think about it."

"Obviously, once we're _really_ in power, they can't be allowed to subsist," Hux went on, a little calmer.

"You think their master's game for that?"

He looked as if that possibility hadn't even entered his mind. "He _must_ see they're dangerous criminals. Frankly, I can't believe he ever was one of them, and you _know_ how critical I am of him in general."

"They may have been cleaner back then."

"They look as if they haven't changed their clothes since then! Or taken a shower."

Phasma couldn't help it any longer and burst out laughing.

x X x

 **7.**

 _And they left, slowly, one by one, …  
It seemed like the night sucked them up, took them into its dark heart. It seemed like the darkness swallowed them …  
perhaps it did._

 _NEIL GAIMAN – Sandman_

Before they had become the notorious Knights of Ren, scourge of the galaxy, its members had been a motley crew of what people commonly call miscreants. Lapsed Jedi apprentices, delinquents, runaways, drop-outs, misfits, jail-breakers, jaw-breakers, in short: boys who couldn't get away far enough from their past lives. This had been their one common denominator, really. Not love of violence, not hatred for anything in particular, not even outrage against the monstrous injustice they saw everywhere around them, which half of them had instinctively rebelled against while the other half had just accepted it as a fact of life. They had simply craved to be free, which had been at the base for their contempt for the Republic ('society', Soven Ren had called it with that awfully condescending smirk of his, or 'the system') and all the rules it imposed. They had blamed 'society', or the 'system' for pretty much all their trials and tribulations, and in some way, they hadn't even been wrong. It _was_ society that discarded children in brutal schools and orphanages, it were society's demands that made parents abandon their children or sell them straightaway, society's norms that required these children to function like well-programmed machines, society's laws that put them in correction facilities or prison if they didn't. Of course, at the same time they had furiously demanded the same laws to protect the helpless and severely punish the wrong-doers, clamoured that they had not protected _them_. At eighteen, that hadn't appeared like a contradiction (and at any rate, the only one really dabbling with the metaphysics of it all had been Soven Ren), but it did now, at least to Kylo.

Perhaps the same question had occurred to his former comrades-in-arms, but they appeared to have found a _very_ different answer, he realised when listening to the stories about their rotten deeds now. As a matter of fact, he had to draw on all his powers of self-control not to let his alienation – disgust – plain horror show too clearly while they wallowed in anecdotes of bloodthirst, rape and cannibalism, not only confirming every blood-curdling tale going around about them but even topping those, proud of every ghastly atrocity.

They were so taken by their own self-aggrandizement, it took ages until someone (Olly, maybe not quite incidentally) noticed Kylo's increasingly appalled expression – and misinterpreted it completely.

"Envious, Ren?" he asked, sniggering.

That brought the others on the case. "Well, it's your own fault for leaving before things started to really happen. For _this_ ," Dathomir Ren cried derisively.

"Yeah," Neo Ren agreed, "and it wasn't even worth it, was it? We could have told you so much, and did, if I remember correctly."

"I left to be trained by Snoke."

Zak guffawed. " _Snoke!_ You weren't his apprentice, Ren. To him you were nothing but a glorified enforcer."

The undeniable truth of that statement hit him hard, actually. Neither was there an appropriate answer other than 'you're right', so Kylo had to content himself by shooting his opponent an aloof sneer.

"You cut yourself off when you were just on the brink of evolution, thus you never expunged the herd morality within you," Soven Ren threw in, and just as Kylo prepared himself for another lengthy sermon about the inevitable emergence of the superhuman, he was luckily cut short by Malo Ren.

"You could have been the greatest of us all, but instead you chose to become Snoke's pet and let him put you on a leash."

Kylo raised an eyebrow. "You think? Last time I looked, I was ruling the galaxy."

"But what is the power to rule the universe compared to your incapability to be your own master?" Soven Ren went on (once he got going, he could not be stopped).

Kylo knew it was no use to try debating with him; the guy never listened, he just picked a single word from what you'd say and use it to continue his soliloquy. Yet he felt tempted by the use of the word 'master'. Deep down he knew he wasn't really his own master, indeed – but Soven Ren's interpretation of the idea exasperated him even more. Giving in to every impulse or desire wasn't 'mastery', let alone 'evolution', but the complete opposite: it was nothing but degeneration. Animals were slaves to their instincts, but they lacked the senseless cruelty that sentient beings brought to the table.

Before he had marshalled his thoughts though, Zak threw in, "Oh, and I bet you just _love_ how your underlings admire you. I bet you _thrive_ on all their brown-nosing."

Again, he wasn't so far off the mark with that aspersion. Once he had gotten used to it, Kylo had indeed enjoyed the veneration that for example the kid from the Communications Department had for him, a fact which suddenly embarrassed him. Not half as much though as the notion that he had ever considered _these_ beasts as his – well, not friends, but comrades.

The two men locked gazes, challenging on Zak's part, supercilious on Kylo's, but united in disdain for each other. Would a fight between them now end with the same results?

"Is that why you asked us here? To show off?" Jango Ren asked.

"Oh yeah. Because I knew just how impressed you'd be."

"Seriously though. We had to raid an outpost to get the fuel to get here. I wonder if it was worth it."

Kylo took a deep breath. This seemed no longer like such a good idea. "My army –" he began regardless but was instantly cut short by hysterical laughter.

" _Your army!_ "

Yes, ludicrous as it sounded (and was, if one thought about it), he was in charge of an army, more than hundred thousand men on this ship alone, commanded by officers he did not trust any further than he could Force choke them from a distance, made up out of stolen children. For some reason, he had thought that he could persuade the Knights of Ren to step into the breach to train and command a new kind of troops -

He suddenly knew that this plan wasn't just hopeless, it was downright imbecile. He could see how they hated the _Finalizer's_ gleaming elegance as much as her function, they hated the First Order just like they had hated the Republic and probably would have hated the Empire (had any of them been old enough to live through it) because they hated authority in any shape or form, just like rules, or common decency. They found it _hilarious_ to harass Stormtroopers whenever they saw one, Force-pushing them around between themselves and daring them to make use of their weapons. The only thing they found even more entertaining was to accost any female officer so unlucky as to meet them. And it was only the presence of those hundred thousand soldiers that kept them from doing any worse (they were powerful and absolutely mad – but certainly not suicidal, and not even their combined powers could have taken on so many armed opponents).

Within twelve short hours Kylo had found another reason to crave the past to die. He couldn't believe that he had ever, however mistakenly perhaps, considered himself to be one of those men. Snoke had used him and possibly even prevented him from reaching his full potential – but at least he hadn't turned into one of _them_.

Before dismissing them without any further pretence at civility, he offered to have them reimbursed for the fuel, and relished the dagger looks he received in return.

x X x

 **8.**

 _When I dream, sometimes I remember how to fly. You just lift one leg, then you lift the other leg, and you're not standing on anything, and you can fly._

 _CHLOE RUSSELL – Sandman_

When Rey had gone to bed that night, her mood had been a blend of sinking confidence, irritation, worry and grief. Still – and she would have credited Rose's remark the evening before – she had a good night, actually. Her slumber was deep and restful, and full of good dreams.

She dreamt of flying the _Millennium Falcon_ at great speed, then she was replaced in the pilot's seat by her old friend, the short rebel pilot in his gay orange uniform with his much too large helmet, doing even more outrageous manoeuvres that made her giddy and weightless.

She had dreamt of him as long as she could remember, he was very small but a _terrific_ flyer, her hero, her symbol of hope. She had dreamt of him so often, she had even fashioned her little rebel pilot doll after his image. He had some resemblance to Poe in his orange kit, when you thought about it, dark-eyed behind his visor – but not even Poe was as short as that. Her little friend was no taller than three feet six, maybe. But what did size matter when you were a genius in the cockpit?

Finally, the _Falcon_ landed on a planet covered by trees as high as the sky, of the lushest greens you could imagine, fragrant with fertile smells, there were flowers everywhere, white and pink and red and blue, it was raining in warm, heavy drops that washed away all fears or worries, and then it began to snow. She'd only seen snow once, and it had _not_ been a happy day, but the snow wasn't to blame for that, and she retained a fond memory of that mysterious substance that fell from the sky in such beautiful flakes and powdered everything in sparkles. And there he was again, her rebel pilot, clearly visibly in his orange uniform as he was frolicking in the snow, pelleting her with snowballs and waving at her to join him. She formed a snowball of her own, took aim – and hit him right across his visor. He toppled and fell and for a second she was worried to have hurt him, but then she heard him whooping with laughter and move his hand to his visor in order to push it up. She caught her breath, curious how her old friend might look –

She woke up. Blinking, she found Finn standing over her with a broad smile. "Get up, get up! Poe's making his aiwha omelettes."

x X x

 **9\. Good Riddance**

The Knights of Ren had left in their dented excuse for a ship, hopefully never to be seen again, and Kylo had taken a very long shower in order to get their atrocious smell out of his nose.

It would have amused him to know that for once, he and General Hux were of one heart and mind. Well, almost. Hux thought the Knights of Ren ought to be persecuted and vanquished at any rate for being criminal thugs. Kylo would have been satisfied never to lay eyes on them again, but if need be, he wouldn't have batted an eyelash to prevent their executions because they were horrible human beings.

He frowned as he caught himself thinking this. 'Horrible human beings'?! Yes, they certainly were that, but he wasn't usually the type to take any interest in people's humanity (or total lack thereof), or judge them for it. It was also a kind of phrase he wouldn't normally use. They were _criminals_ , plain and simple, murderers, rapists and terrorists, who made even the Resistance look like decent fellows.

It hadn't been like that, back then. It just hadn't. Sure, now that he actually tried to remember, he recalled that even then, he had sometimes felt that they had no longer fought the bullies but become the bullies themselves. But it had all been quite – well, _harmless_. If you weren't a prison warden or slave trader, or something of that ilk. Admittedly, during his last months, he had increasingly often felt that they had attacked someone only because they didn't like their face – but that had made it so easy to leave, actually.

He shuddered, recalling some of the stories they had merrily told him, which to them were just expressions of their absolute freedom. He wouldn't have believed most of it – _hadn't_ believed it – but now he knew that all the tales were true, the cruelty, the malignancy for its own sake, drunken by their sense of their devastating power as they were. No one dared tell _them_ what they could or couldn't do, and as they'd spoken, they'd challenged him with their sneers to give it a try. The problem was – they had become far more powerful, far too powerful. Like he, they had continued to advance with the Dark side, without a jealous master though to keep them under his thumb. Well, there wasn't much Kylo had to say in favour of Snoke, but maybe he should consider himself lucky that he had had a master keeping him at bay?

Because he understood _some_ of it. The indiscriminate fury, hunger for liberty, for power, for vengeance. That's where they had started together after all. But not much self-inspection was necessary, he just knew that he would never have become like _that_ , with or without Snoke. He _didn't_ kill for sport, he never had and never would, he took no pleasure in the pain of others, he had never intentionally maimed anyone outside of a fight (even then it had been a harrowing by-product), and _why_ anyone would drink blood or eat human flesh was far beyond his wildest imagination. The longer he thought about it, the more he doubted if he could still beat them as he had at twenty. He was mighty when tapping his rage. _They_ were long past rage, moving in the realms of sheer, undiluted, psychopathic self-indulgence.

But they were gone now, hopefully for good, and he had far more urgent problems.

x X x

 **10\. Almost**

"Supreme Leader, the _Exterminator's_ commanding officer has arrived."

Kylo Ren looked up and smiled a terrible little smile that let his General shrink back. "Good."

"Do you wish to interview him here or shall he be taken elsewhere, Supreme Leader?"

"Oh, bring him to your office, why don't you."

Hux swallowed and obeyed. Fifteen minutes later Captain Chandrila was escorted into the room and Hux almost managed to slip out unnoticed – _almost_.

"Oh no, _please_ , General. Stay."

"Supreme Leader, I really ought to –"

" _Stay_."

He hadn't really raised his voice much, but spoken with such compelling authority that Hux froze for a second, then dutifully turned back, positioning himself behind his leader who was sitting in Hux's own chair. Under any other circumstances, this would have vexed the general – but not today. Not _now_. He had a really bad feeling about this.

"Captain Chandrila – interesting name. Do you actually hail from Chandrila, or is it a coincidence?" Ren began almost conversationally. _Almost_.

"B-both, Supreme Leader, sir," the Captain stuttered. "I mean, I was born there, b-but… The name has no further significance."

"I was born and raised there, too. Hanna City."

Chandrila nodded insecurely. "Ah, yes. Beautif- I mean – uh – _great_ – place..."

"It _is_ rather large, yes." Ren got up and walked over to the man. He stood towering above him for half a minute, then put on a wide grin and slapped him on the shoulder. Chandrila made a face as if he had slapped him in the face though.

"Before we get to that unpleasant business which has brought you here today, allow me to congratulate you. I have been informed that you were in charge of the successful bombardment of Yashta."

Hux clenched his jaws, his ear well attuned to the undertone.

Chandrila on the other hand was not and allowed himself to relax the tiniest bit. Perhaps this wouldn't come quite as bad as he had feared. "Yes, Supreme Leader, sir."

"Please, accept the First Order's appreciation, as well as my own." Ren took the Captain's hand and shook it, a second or two too long, while boring into his eyes. The last bit of colour drained from Chandrila's cheeks during those seconds, his eyes widened with terror and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Hux felt the temperature in the room drop as he looked on.

"Now that we have this out of the way, let's get to that business with the _Millennium Falcon_. I read the reports, Captain. Have you got anything to add?"

Chandrila clearly tried to form the word 'no', but no sound would come.

"Is it correct that the _Exterminator's_ actually struck the _Millennium Falcon_ twice and caused it apparently severe damage?"

Again, Chandrila had no voice, so he nodded mouthing the words 'yes, Supreme Leader'.

"And then?"

But Chandrila could not speak. Hux wondered what Ren had done to him during that handshake, and witnessed in alarmed silence Ren's increasingly vicious recital of that minor debacle. Hux would have been the first to reprimand an officer for losing three quarters of a TIE-fighter squadron – but this wasn't about losing any fighters. If he was any judge, it wasn't even about not capturing the _Millennium Falcon_.

And while Ren was ranting, he moved his hands almost imperceptibly. _Almost_. Because with every tiny movement, Captain Chandrila broke down further. Not long and he was on his knees, bracing his arms around him in what looked like mute agony, on all fours next. Tears were streaming down his face, then blood, it gushed out of his nose, mouth, eyes, ears. He collapsed on the floor, but with one swift gesture, Ren hurled him into the air again. And finally, the Captain got his voice back. He screamed like Hux had never heard a human being scream, it went on and on and on, Ren's eyes were blazing like furnaces, his lips drawn back in hatred as he held the man upright and did heaven knew what to him. And then – he all of a sudden let go. Chandrila fell to the floor as a lifeless, blood-soaked bundle.

Ren turned to Hux. "What are you looking at me like that for?" he asked with an expression that chilled Hux's blood even more than the spectacle he had just witnessed. "He isn't _dead_. Take care of him, will you."

x X x

 **11\. Overwhelmed**

Rey really wasn't the type for faints. Just now though, as she was welding back a crashed part of the roof, she felt the floor under her giving way and for once this wasn't due to the _Falcon's_ sorry state of repair. She tumbled and folded up, overcome by a sudden wave of nausea and such – such – she didn't even have a name for the sensation. It was a savage blend of grief and hatred and fury and pain.

She knew _he_ was on the verge of killing someone – but subsided; the feeling abated almost as suddenly as it had come, only the deep sense of grief remained.

x X x

 **12.**

"If nothing else helps, drink more," Captain Phasma said and took a gulp herself.

Hux's hand was shaking as he lifted his bottle and followed that sage advice. "I am so dead."

"Last time we spoke about this, you were all 'it had to be done, if I die, so be it'," she reminded him rather cruelly, he thought.

"Last time, I hadn't seen how it's going to be like!"

"Well, what did you expect? A cuddle and an overdose of sleeping pills?!"

"Well, what would you have done! Let General Organa get away?"

" _I_ would have bombed Nevo Kall while he was there."

"And how do you reckon our troops would have taken that? Bombing our Supreme Leader?"

" _My_ men would have accepted whatever I had told them."

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing. Only that you may want to get a tighter grip on yours."

"Don't talk so big, Phasma. Before they were 'your' men, they were mine. I was the one who got the idea to indoctrinate them from birth, and if I had continued, they'd be primed on _me_ now."

She just shrugged. "And your point is?"

He pulled a face. "It's just not the same when you only get them that late. I _can't_ pull the wool over their eyes like you do."

"That's starting with a wrong premise, Hux. You sound as if you tried to dupe them, when in fact, you only do what's best for the First Order. We've _got_ to get rid of Ren sooner or later, and rather sooner if I'm not mistaken."

"Now there's a new tune!"

"Oh well, after his inspection I reconsidered. I have a very bad feeling about this guy."

x X x

 **13\. A Visit**

 _Last night I heard your voice, mother,  
The words you sang to me  
When I, a little barefoot boy,  
Knelt down against your knee._

 _CLAUDE MCKAY – December, 1919_

He hadn't slept a wink in almost three days, but that night he was so deadly tired that he knew he couldn't ward it off any longer. Pondering on the day, or more exactly, his encounter with the man who had pressed the trigger killing his mother, he was on the verge of sleep when he heard her voice.

'I'm glad you didn't kill that man, sweetheart.'

Thinking he was dreaming already and grateful it was of her, he didn't even open his eyes. "I didn't kill him because of you. I knew you wouldn't have wanted me to."

'Oh, so you did occasionally listen to what I said,' she said without resentment. 'I had wondered about that.'

"I heard all you ever said _when_ you were there to say it, Mother. I just happen to disagree with you."

'Well, since I'm here _now_ , let me say one more thing: I am sorry, my darling, sorry I left you alone so often, even more than I am sorry for not always being entirely honest with you. I know I've lost you a long time before you left us.'

"I'm sorry, too," he whispered, tears brimming behind closed eyes, of anger at the past as much as of hurt and misery. "I didn't want you to die!"

'Sweetheart, I _know_. Was it worth it though?'

Anger won. " _You_ tell _me!_ "

'Freedom is worth dying for –'

" _Yes_ , it is!"

'And now you're free? Because you look like a caged Arkanian dragon.'

"Gee _thanks_ , Mother."

'I'm just saying, you've got all you ever strove for –'

He laughed scathingly. "You know _this_ isn't what I strove for."

'I know you clamoured for the Republic to go down, and re-establish the Empire – incidentally, for someone so keen to let the past die, you are amazingly attached to the Empire –'

"The Empire vanquished the corruption that riddled the Galactic Senate, that in the end had less influence than commercial corporations like the Trade Federation –"

'And at what price?'

"I thought we agreed that justice is worth dying for."

'Darling, you may be willing to sacrifice _yourself_ in a good cause. When you sacrifice the lives of _others_ , it is murder. At any rate and whether you wanted it or not, now you _are_ the master of the galaxy. Deal with it.'

He tore open his eyes at last, catching the last fading glimmer of the shining aura surrounding his mother's ghost, only now realising that he hadn't been dreaming.

x X x


	6. The Master of the Galaxy

**VI. THE MASTER OF THE GALAXY**

 _The lower still I fall, only supreme  
In misery: such joy ambition finds!_

 _JOHN MILTON – Paradise Lost_

* * *

 **1\. His Mother's Legacy…**

 _The courage that my mother had  
Went with her, and is with her still:…_

 _Oh, if instead she'd left to me  
The thing she took into the grave!—  
That courage like a rock, which she  
Has no more need of, and I have._

 _EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY – The courage that my mother had_

The conversation with his mother lingered in his mind all through the night and kept him awake. Perhaps it was only the exhaustion chipping away at him, but by the small hours, he was so far as to think she had had a couple of good points. In a manner of speaking, he _was_ the master of the galaxy, and he was making a terrible job of it.

He was (supposedly!) in command of a galaxy he had only a vague idea of, he was the leader of an order which he had never bothered to understand, the commander of troops he didn't know. He was neither a military leader nor a politician and lacked experience in every respect, as he was only too well aware. He had trained for nine years to become a Jedi, which qualified him for excellent swordsmanship and a number of tricks that came in handy if you wanted to open wedged doors, or defend yourself against murderous relatives. Then he had spent another eight years becoming proficient in the Dark side and increased his powers – only to become 'Snoke's enforcer', as Zak had so aptly pointed out. Enforcers were per definition no leaders.

Snoke! The mere thought of the man stoked up his anger once again, at his old master as much as at himself. When he had been through with the Knights of Ren and wondered if there might not be another master who could teach him, he had suddenly known whom to turn to. The only one who could explain how he had arranged this was dead, but Kylo wasn't much interested in the actual machinations themselves. Back then, he had thought it was his own idea, his own ingenuity leading him deep into the Unknown Regions and finding that elusive master.

Boy, had it been a revelation or what. A whole lot of revelations. The powers Snoke had disclosed to him – the truth about his heritage – the fury with his parents for lying to him all his life – the _actual connection_ to his grandfather, the mighty Lord Vader of legend. Nothing of it had been true though, had it? He hadn't achieved the powers that Snoke had promised him, Darth Vader might once have been the mightiest Sith the galaxy had ever seen, but before his death he had had a change of heart and turned against the Empire and his former master (Kylo suddenly thought he sympathized with the impulse), and possibly because of that heel-turn, Snoke couldn't have allowed any _real_ connection between his puppet and Vader. He had led himself be coaxed into all this on one gigantic, glittering falsehood.

What were the alternatives though? Walking away from it all and leaving Hux – _Hux!_ – in charge?! The man was a maniac! Hux's idea of removing an enemy consisted of razing whole cities – just to make sure. And killing Hux wasn't much of an option because that one's cronies weren't any better, were they? Under no circumstances could lunatics like that be left in charge of the galaxy and its inhabitants.

Being his mother's son, he had an innate sense of duty, which now prompted him to contemplate the task he had landed himself with, even if he had never really desired it in the first place.

He had to face it: At this moment in time, the galaxy did not have any government. A ruler, _perhaps_ , at least in name – but no structure to carry it off. No laws. No nothing except an army. And what good was that to anybody outside of actual war?

But what could he do? The First Order was its military, they were interchangeable. Snoke – a former Admiral – hadn't bothered to invest in anything else. The Empire had had the mightiest forces the galaxy had ever seen, but all the same they had been a mere tool to enforce order, because Palpatine – a former politician – had been sage enough to know that _power_ wasn't enough to rule.

Kylo had cut his teeth on political discourse so to speak. Leia had hated the Empire with a passion and never tired to inform her son about its atrocities, at the same time she had enthused about the Republic's supposed virtues. Even as a child he had questioned her certainties though. How stable was the new Republic, if it was in such ever-constant need of his mother's endorsement? If the Jedi were in fact so good and powerful, how come they had allowed themselves to be wiped out by one man's machinations? If democracy was so admirable, why did people as a mob always make the worst decisions? If the Republic was so great, how could it tolerate that its laws were ignored, that slavery still flourished, that venality and sleaze were the order of the day? Hadn't the Empire managed to juggle the selfish demands of millions and millions of stars rather successfully? They had vanquished the greedy Separatist Alliance, had put an end to the Clone Wars and swept out the incredible corruption riddling the Republic bureaucracy with a broom of steel. They had brought peace, prosperity and overall stability to the Galaxy. Wasn't the Empire in fact the very embodiment of Leia's own maxims? All her admonitions that he ought to pull himself together because the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the individual, i.e. his? The older he had become, the more of her teachings he had simply discarded and never thought about again, and if he had, then only to scorn them.

It hadn't taken her death though for her son to know that – all personal delusions aside – his mother had been a wise woman in many ways. Her adoptive parents had given her an excellent education and her knowledge of state affairs had been almost unrivalled. So if Leia Organa had suddenly found herself in his position, what would _she_ have done?

The answer was easy. She would have called for as many experts as she could lay her hands on.

x X x

 **2.**

 _We do what we must ... Sometimes we can choose the path we follow. Sometimes our choices are made for us. And sometimes we have no choice at all._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

Ryoone wouldn't have figured on any list compiled of planets that Poe Dameron would voluntarily have visited, no matter how long. It had been strictly Galactic Empire territory and only changed its allegiance to the First Order because they were even worse. But beggars can't be choosers; the _Falcon's_ crew knew they were lucky to land _anywhere_ before the ship truly fell apart.

"Well, it's either this, or CT-628," he announced laconically.

BB-8 beeped his opinion. Poe sneered.

"It's a _moon_. Meaning it has no atmosphere, which you don't care for, I know, but no random spare parts either."

"Ryoone it is, then," Finn said resignedly. "At least our cannons still work."

Rose shook her head. "Forget about that. One big vibration and she may crack open like an egg after all."

"Just think of the vibration if we're hit though."

x X x

 **3\. … And His Father's**

"Captain Peavey, how can it be that every time I look for General Hux on the bridge of the ship he is – at least in name – commanding, he isn't here?"

The poor captain was stumped for an answer, whereas his Supreme Leader was not. He had in fact waited until Hux had left to make an appearance. In order for the message to sink in with the entirety of his army, it was imperative to be passed on down to the last man. Knowing Hux, he would have managed to – _forget_ – someone.

"Just as well, you will suffice."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"As past experience sadly proves, our troops are incapable to deal with the _Millennium Falcon_ – yes, Captain? You wish to say something?"

Peavey had opened his mouth, but decided it wiser to shut it again. "No, Supreme Leader, sir."

"So I decided that I will take care of her myself. _No one_ except me is to lay a finger on her, is that understood?"

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"Please inform every other captain of the fleet and General Hux of this order as well. Tell them that any interference with, any – _accident_ – happening to the _Millennium Falcon_ , however small, and be it a broken aerial, will result in the responsible officer's instant and – ah – _terminal_ removal from office. And the same goes for that officer's entire team, on this ship or any other. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Supreme Leader, sir!"

He looked around the room, eyeing each present officer individually and severely. "You heard me, too?"

"Yes, Supreme Leader, sir!" came the apprehensive chorus.

"Good. Good. Let us hope no further _unpleasantness_ will be necessary."

x X x

 **4\. The Galaxy's Best Guarded Secret**

The _Falcon_ was too much damaged to dare fly her at great speed. So they approached Ryoone rather slowly, which was a stroke of luck indeed, because the closer they got, the more insistent the _Falcon's_ warning signals beeped.

Poe glowered at the hologram depicting the planet and its atmosphere. "Is this what I think it is?"

Finn's mouth was dry and he took his time, checking every possible sign twice before answering, "I think it is."

"What are you talking about?" Rose asked, but the two men were too engrossed to hear her.

"Well, her total annihilation would have been too good to be true anyhow, wouldn't it," Poe snarled, his gaze glued to the hologram.

"You don't understand," Finn said hoarsely.

"What's not to understand? This _is_ the _Supremacy_ , isn't it?"

"It is – and it won't be."

"Try not to sound like a Jedi master, will you!"

"When a First Order ship takes a serious strike, they analyse the problem and no sooner get her back into service than having solved it. You can never get them twice with the same trick."

"Frankly, at this point, we don't even have any spare ship which we could crash into her, at light speed or not –"

"I seriously doubt that those are the only improvements they're working on. I mean, she's at least five years old. Just imagine how much new technology was developed in that time."

Rey had gotten up and joined them in front of the hologram. "Let's get closer and find out," she said.

Finn shook his head quite frantically. "This is the _Supremacy_. The First Order's primary flagship! On the ground, in the air, in space, it will be better guarded than – than – I doubt there is anything else in the galaxy better guarded than this ship."

Poe grinned. "You should have met my first girlfriend. Well, you couldn't have, her father guarded her like a Hutt. And yet, and yet…"

x X x

 **5.**

 _I will be a wise and tolerant monarch, dispensing justice fairly, and only setting nightmares to rip out the minds of the evil and wicked. Or just anybody I don't like._

 _JOHN DEE – Sandman_

If you're the leader, lead!

Easier said than done. In spite of his mother's genes, Kylo Ren was not a leader by nature; he found it difficult to deal with other people (not to mention vice versa!) and felt some distaste telling them what to do (why didn't they know it themselves to begin with!). Whenever in the past he had been forced to lead, it had been more of a default option, either because he was the oldest and strongest, or because he was the best flyer in a TIE-fighter squadron, or in case of the Knights of Ren – well, they were an even worse example. He had basically been herding cats vaguely tolerating his superior powers, and never made the mistake to arrogate telling them what to do, knowing they would do the exact opposite on sheer principle.

No, in this regard, he truly took after his father. Han Solo had not been a team player if his wife hadn't bullied him into something to begin with, and even then, his commitment had been reluctant enough. But while this approach had worked for the captain of the _Millennium Falcon_ , it wouldn't do for his son any longer. Even Snoke had relied on his commanding triumvirate of Kylo Ren, General Hux and Captain Phasma. The Emperor had had Darth Vader. One simply could not rule all on one's own.

So he summoned long rows of law makers and other experts from every corner of the galaxy to come to the _Finalizer_ , pay their respects to their new leader, and tell him what exactly it was they were doing. He listened very carefully.

The seniors among them had served under the old Republic, the Empire, the new Republic and were still in charge; who ruled the galaxy made no difference to a civil engineer in charge of building and maintaining streets, or pest control, or health services. It didn't even matter to a chief of police; the laws in themselves might change, but the bulk of them stayed the same anyhow, as well as the best way to enforce them.

The experience was somewhat enlightening. So far, he had used the term 'bureaucracy' as a term of abuse, only to realise that stability rested on the shoulders of quite unsung heroes with unexciting job descriptions in drab offices.

He also made himself familiar with the operation he was leading. On a ship carrying five times more people than planets like, for example, Jakku, this was an onerous task, which he quite enjoyed nevertheless and if only because it annoyed Hux, and his appearance invariably caused a bit of an uproar. One or two technicians actually _fainted_. Mostly, people were deadly scared of him; their fears oozed out of every pore, and no use of the Force necessary to feel it. On the other hand, a sizeable portion cheered, as if he were – and while still angling for the proper comparison, it dawned on him that he _was_ – a king (or something). That strange kid from the Communications Department wasn't alone in terms of hero-worship. At first, he wondered if the graffiti slogan 'Kylo Ren Rules' in the less official corridors was supposed to be a kind of reminder. Then he realised it wasn't. Unlike Hux (who still could bring himself to address him as 'Supreme Leader' only every other time) these people needed no reminders – they were straight-on all-in _fans_ , had been even before his ascension to Supreme Leadership. To say his vanity was flattered would have been an understatement – he was perfectly _chuffed_. Then he remembered Zak's derisive remarks on brown-nosing staff and felt ashamed, all the more because he soon realised that more often than not, their admiration stemmed from his connection to the Knights of Ren.

He inspected all major departments and wasn't much surprised to find that soon, Hux insisted to accompany him on these visits, no matter how hard he tried to shake the guy off. As it was obvious though that Hux strongly minded the examination of some sections stronger than others, he didn't order him to stand down, but carefully monitored the General's.

And since Kylo still feared to sleep as long as he could help it, he simply returned at night to those departments that Hux objected him the most to see. One of these was the Department for Internal Security, and luckily, this was also the first he secretly went back to, for once he had a chance to look over their work at leisure, he noticed that Hux had clearly pulled pretty much the same stunt on him like Kylo had with the help of the kids from the Communications Department. Everyone aboard had their own personal identifier so they could only enter those sections for which they had security clearance – and Hux had engineered it so that he could locate Kylo's identifier at all times.

"Delete my present visit here _at once_ ," he ordered a nervous officer as soon as understanding the principle. She hectically pressed a dozen keys, head low, not daring to meet his gaze. Next he ordered her to equip him with a second identifier unknown to Hux. And then he used the good old Jedi mind trick to wipe her – and everybody else's – memory of the manoeuvre they had just witnessed.

Not that he had had any trust in his General before, but now Kylo was _really_ curious what else the man was hiding from him.

x X x

 **6.**

 _No one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away – until the clock he wound winds down, until the wine she made has finished its ferment, until the crop they planted is harvested. The span of someone's life…is only the core of their actual existence._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT – Reaper Man_

Poe bit his nails as was his wont in times of stress (before picking up that bad habit some years previously, he had been on three packs of Jih-Tens a day when things had been rough). His instincts as a pilot and fighter told him to just seize this chance and rely on luck.

In the hold, his gaze fell upon C-3PO, who still sat there like his own monument, a constant reminder of his dead mistress – as if Poe needed reminding! Still, the sight brought her once more to his mind, from another angle perhaps, because he suddenly thought, 'What would Leia have done?'

The answer wasn't hard. She would have admonished him that this really wasn't the moment for any further grandstanding. There was a time to hop into an X-wing fighter and blow something up, and there was a time to coolly weigh one's chances. This was one of the latter. 'We are the spark, that will light the fire that'll burn the First Order down.' For that, the spark must keep on gleaming, right?

He returned to the cockpit. "There's not a chance in Malachor to get any closer to her and we can't risk appearing on their radars as long as we can't even get away."

Finn frowned. "It's a miracle they shouldn't have spotted us already."

"Who says they haven't?"

"We're still alive, that should give you a clue."

"We must tell someone," Rose interjected.

"Who, though? No one dared to go against them even before knowing the _Supremacy_ was back in service."

"But don't you see, she isn't back yet," Rey retorted, "they're still repairing her, that's why they aren't attacking us. _Now_ is the only chance we may have to take her out."

Poe shook his head. "Tell her, Finn."

"Going up against the _Supremacy_ would be madness. Compared to her, we're no more than a gnat."

"Luke Skywalker destroyed the first Death Star with one shot out of an X-wing."

Poe hadn't stopped shaking his head. "He knew where to shoot though."

"But we've got Finn," she cried brightly and turned to the young man.

He opened his mouth, stumped for a ready reply, and some sort of battle visible in his face. "I don't know more about her than you," he muttered eventually, avoiding their gazes. Rey's especially. "I was stationed on the _Finalizer_."

Rose exhaled, proud of him in this moment. It was obvious how much he would have liked to impress Rey with some expert knowledge.

"But you've been to the _Supremacy_ , too –"

It was Poe who spared him an answer by saying sarcastically, "I don't think they have wall charts though marking her vulnerable points."

The warning beeps got more and more insistent and Chewbacca uttered an urgent bark. This got them back to the present.

"For a start we need to get away from her," Poe said. "What are the chances, Rose?"

"Slim to non-existent."

"Well, we got here."

"And we may even manage to get on a little further –"

"That's good enough for me." Poe punched some keys and a holo-map of this section appeared before them. "CT-628 it is. We may not find anything we need there, but at least it'll give us a chance to fix what we can with little danger of being spotted by anybody."

x X x

 **7.**

As he got to know his troops, Kylo soon figured out that Captain Phasma's hold over her Stormtroopers was absolute. They would have followed any of her commands to the end of the galaxy and beyond. But not one tenth of the _Finalizer's_ crew were actual Stormtroopers, and among the others, he found some laudably impressionable creatures.

Most didn't even attempt to resist when he used the Force to probe their minds – and even if they had, they wouldn't have gotten far. The only person who had ever managed to actually withstand him… But it was no use dwelling on _her_. At any rate, in surprisingly little time he had found a number of willing spies to do his bidding and discreetly trail both Hux and Phasma.

For starters, one befuddled technician had figured out that either of them, impossible to say which, had had the nerve to bug his – _Kylo Ren's!_ – quarters, monitoring not only his every move, but also _vital signs_. That would have been enough to put them in front of their own firing squads, but his ire grew even more when learning that they had also seen to it that by means of hidden speakers, recordings of Snoke's voice were projected into his room whenever he was asleep. If he hadn't been so furious, he would have been impressed by that simple yet effective trick that had cost him even more nerves than actual hours of rest.

x X x

 **8.**

After the tenth or so remark, Rey's patience snapped. "Yes, I _know_ this isn't going to last long! But what am I supposed to do without even a semblance of proper spare parts? I cannot make bricks without straw, you understand?!"

Rose, who considered herself lucky for once to comprehend only fractions of the Wookiee's remarks, braced herself for yet another argument. They had had three or four in the course of this evening alone. Chewbacca was clearly dissatisfied with the repairs of what he regarded to be his ship, and not above expressing his unhappiness in not-too-dulcet tones. Rey, who could speak some Shyriiwook, had been clearly vexed but even then so polite as to address him in his own language as good and often as she could. Well, the time for courtesy was over.

Seeing the bad state the _Falcon_ was in, Rose thought they weren't making such a bad job of patching her up. Now that she was actually on the ground, they had gotten onto the roof and done some welding (luckily, none of the inmates had had any idea before just _how_ bad it had been damaged, or they might have flown right to the _Supremacy_ in order to beg for their lives instead of possibly being sucked into space and perish) and they had ripped out compartment walls out of the hull and repurposed them to stabilise those parts of the outer shell that were threatening to collapse otherwise. It wasn't pretty and certainly not permanent, but then again, they only needed to last until reaching a planet not infested by First Order troops.

"I _am_ aware that this interferes with the hyperdrive cooler," Rey yelled now. "I haven't got the time though to do much about it, do I, because I'm not sure you noticed, but we're short on oxygen, or are you so brain-dead already that you no longer need any?!"

Rose flinched back in shock, BB-8 gave the beeping equivalent of a gasp, why, even Rey herself looked startled. "I'm sorry," she cried almost at once. "I – I don't know what came over me."

She did have an inkling though, which upset her almost as much as Chewbacca was about that totally uncalled-for remark.

x X x

 **9\. Coming Clean**

Rey's remorse and embarrassment knew no boundaries. She had apologised to Chewbacca half a dozen times and he _said_ it was alright but she didn't quite believe him. Maybe it was just her guilty conscience eating away at her – but then, there was something she could do about _that_ , wasn't there? Time to come clean.

So she asked Rose to call for Finn and Poe as well, and once they were all gathered around the table in the hold, she took a deep breath and told them all, beginning with the vision she had seen on Takodana – the moment in the interrogation cell when she had seen into the mind of Kylo Ren for the first time – their string of conversations through the Force during her time on Ahch-To, her realisation that there was still good in him, her subsequent journey to the Supremacy (they more or less knew the rest about _that_ ) – and how ever since she could at times sense his emotions even if they weren't actually connecting to each other.

She had avoided looking at them during that soliloquy; now she raised her eyes. On Poe's forehead was a wrinkle deep enough to swallow a small Porg chick, Rose's eyes were as round as her mouth, Finn gazed at her in a mixture of pity and horror.

"Why didn't you say so any sooner?" Poe asked at last, his voice flat and apparently struggling for control.

"I – I don't know…"

"You don't?"

"I guess I was scared how you'd react."

He shot her a cold glare. "And how do you think we should react now?"

She shrugged helplessly. "I just thought you ought to know."

He hesitated for some seconds, then nodded slowly and got up. "Yeah, right." And back he went to the cockpit.

Rey watched after him unhappily before turning back to the others. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

Finn wetted his lips. "He's tricked you, Rey," he said at long last. "There's no good left in Kylo Ren."

"It doesn't work that way, Finn. He can't trick me –"

"Can't he just! Listen, I _know_ the bastard! I _know_ what he can do!"

"Yes, but I can feel what he's feeling, he –"

"Oh for goodness' sake, you should hear yourself!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're deluding yourself, that's what it means! And you _know_ it, too, or why would you have lied to us about this all that time?" He rose from his seat as well and made for the door. "Geez, I don't _believe_ this."

Abashed, both Rose and Chewbacca awkwardly patted her shoulders.

x X x

 **10\. Revenge Is Sweet**

 _I do not know what game they are playing. But I know this. I am angry, Lucien. And it's my move._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

He had been looking forward to this, but when the great moment came, it was even sweeter than anticipated. Since the _Finalizer_ didn't possess anything like Snoke's ridiculous throne room, the assembly room had to do to gather as many high-ranking officers and Stormtroopers as possible, which they did with the outwardly attentive yet vaguely glazed expressions of people expecting yet another boring lecture. Furthermore, the speech would be broadcast over the _Finalizer's_ loudspeakers and via radio holonet throughout the galaxy.

Kylo deliberately waited three minutes longer than was comfortable for anyone (including himself), then shot his audience his most sardonic smile (which reminded more than one old soldier of a sarlacc) and launched into the dreaded speech.

He began by congratulating them on having secured a hold on the galaxy and announced that obviously, this could only be the beginning.

"We have conquered the galaxy, now we must govern it with the same effectiveness. Already we have appointed a number of good heads. We'll see to laws being written and administrations being built. The First Order _will_ bring order to all the stars that are yet in the thralls of chaos and corruption, we _will_ put an effective end to slavery and the stranglehold of the apparently unconquerable corporations."

He got applause and some cheers for this, only Hux didn't quite manage to get his face into the appropriate shape, and it wouldn't have taken a Force-user of Kylo Ren's magnitude to read his mind – 'what do you think is paying for all this, you moron?'

Ah, yes. What a perfect segue to the next part. The _expenses_. Obviously, all this would cost lots and lots of money, while drying up some wells of income – but never fear, there would be new sources, for example by confiscating the entire property of known slavers, perhaps socialising ten or twenty thousand of the most immoral corporations. As for the rest, they would simply _economise_. For a start, they were going to put an end to the oh-so-costly Stormtrooper program. The elite troops they had they would obviously keep, no worries, and could there be _any_ doubt that their well-known excellence would suffice as a deterrent? _Of course not._ But they would review the effectiveness of the troops they had as well as the training centres, they would not – _enlist_ – any new recruits, and perhaps send home those cadets that still had one to go back to.

He knew he had struck a chord. Hux no longer bothered to hide his disbelief and so did some other high-ranking captains. Phasma was literally stewing inside her chromium armour, great clouds of fury wafted off her. But at least half of the assembled Stormtroopers had got the message, too. Indoctrinated for their entire lives they might have been, but if they had been asked to this room today, they were also of above average intelligence and had some knowledge of what had got them here. _Some_ of them wanted to go home, even if they hadn't got one, no matter how devoted to Phasma they were otherwise.

Kylo exhaled from the bottom of his heart and savoured his moment of triumph. This was killing two birds with one stone. He had gotten his revenge on Hux as well as Phasma – and it was the first truly useful thing he had done with this job he had never wanted.

x X x

 **11.**

"That's it. I've had it," Phasma greeted Hux when he arrived in her office. One glance at the bottle before her on the table was proof enough that she had started without him.

"He'll never be able to pull it through –"

"Oh won't he just!"

He sat down and produced his own bottle. "The Republic wanted to ban slavery for years, why, even the Empire never quite –"

"Slavers, ph! They're easy enough to squash if you really wanted it."

"That takes money though, which he won't have if he gets on the wrong side of the corporations."

"I don't care! _I don't care!_ He wants to meddle with _my men!_ I told you he would, I told you he –"

" _Your_ men! _Our_ men, you mean. _I_ was the one devising the Stormtrooper program –"

"And yet you only talk about slavers and corporations and – and –" She took another deep swig, then hurled the empty bottle against the wall over Hux's head. "When's the _Supremacy_ ready!"

He smiled and brushed some splinters of glass from his uniform. "Soon enough, dear. A couple of days, a week maximum. Time to see which of your troopers you want to keep –"

"What?!"

"Well, you can't save them all, can you? We'll have to use the _Supremacy_ to bomb the _Finalizer_ out of existence with Ren on board, and all you can do is send one or two legions on some hoax mission, otherwise he'll get suspicious."

"But they're my boys!"

He cast her an unimpressed glance. "For heaven's sake, Phasma, don't you go soft on me. You've got four hundred thousand more on our other ships."

x X x

 **12\. In Absence of A Better Plan**

 _If we must die—let it not be like hogs  
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,  
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,  
Making their mock at our accursed lot.  
If we must die—oh, let us nobly die,  
So that our precious blood may not be shed  
In vain; then even the monsters we defy  
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!  
Oh, Kinsmen! We must meet the common foe;  
Though far outnumbered, let us show us brave,  
And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!  
What though before us lies the open grave?  
Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,  
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!_

 _CLAUDE MCKAY – If We Must Die_

Poe rubbed his hands. "Well, my children, are you ready?"

"Ready for anything," his merry crew cried, for once cheerful. They had breached the last rations of Han Solo's secret stash of booze in order to celebrate the fact that the _Millennium Falcon_ was ready, too, to leave the uninhabitable grounds of CT-628 behind.

"Ready for death and destruction?" Poe went on in a teasing sing-sang voice, imitating a Ponch and Jooty show.

"We're ready!" they sang back like overwound children and raised their cups.

"Then let's go and have a stab at the _Supremacy_ , shall we?"

Rey giggled, Rose and Chewbacca paused, Finn's face fell. "You're joking, right?"

"Far from it, my young friend. We haven't heard anything from anybody in six days. Which more likely than not means they are dead, which means you and Chewbacca and I and those two lovely young ladies are the last there is of the Resistance. We don't stand a chance. If we have to perish though, let's go out with a blast, _I_ say."

Rose felt suddenly very sober. "Don't talk such nonsense, Poe. The _Falcon_ is much too small and light, even at light speed it wouldn't do much more than scratch the _Supremacy's_ paintwork."

Finn whirled around to glare at her. "And that's all you've got to say to a suicide mission?!"

Poe shook his head. "You clearly haven't properly listened to the story of Luke Skywalker and the Death Star, dear boy. Rey, why don't you regale us with the tale once more?"

"But you said yourself that one would have to know the exact spot –"

"Ah, yes. And then I remembered that you're supposed to be strong with the Force."

"You don't seriously believe I could figure out how to destroy the _Supremacy_ like that, do you?! That's not how the Force works!"

"Or you could try and get it out of Kylo Ren," Finn said slowly.

"Sorry?"

"Your little – whatever it is. You could use it to get information out of him."

Rey just laughed scornfully.

He raised his brows. "What!"

"This is ridiculous. For a start, that is not how it works either. He could be looking at the plans right beneath his nose and I wouldn't see them. If he hasn't learnt them by heart and developed some _real_ attachment to them, I wouldn't see them in his mind either. But most of all, I – I…I would never – you _can't_ be serious!"

Poe stared at her, uncomprehending. "You would never – what?"

"The very idea is totally out of bounds!"

"What on earth are you talking about? If it worked, it'd be the greatest feat of espionage ever!"

"Yes, well, exactly. And I'm not going to do it."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm not a spy!"

She looked around for support, but even Finn gazed back at her in a haze of drunken and disappointed reproach.

x X x

 **13\. Caving In**

 _If you want to make a bond, you are to take the risk of tearing._

 _ANTOINE DE SAINT-EXUPÉRY – The Little Prince_

More distraught than she could say, Rey clambered into the bowels of the ship, sealing every door behind her with great care.

They had gotten her even more drunk and gone on and on and on. What a menace the _Supremacy_ was (she did not doubt it). That her final destruction might actually inspire some hope in people who until now had been too cowed to support the Resistance (possibly). That it was the only thing they could do, and was she a part of their team or was she not! ( _Of course_ she was –) That the Force was meaningless if it wasn't put to some good use – so far, only Kylo Ren was benefitting from it, and he used it for evil (ye-es). And speaking of him – didn't she want to see Leia avenged (but he was devastated by her death, too!). _Oh, was he_ – so what about Han Solo! And Luke Skywalker! And all the other people he had murdered! And the Hosnians! Not to mention the countless people she – _she alone!_ – could save!

Perhaps she would have managed to withstand that onslaught of reasoning if she had been a bit soberer. As it was though, she couldn't have borne to disappoint their hopes, their trust in her even though her insides were churning.

'Is this a bad time?'

He was clearly taken aback, and without answering made some gestures with his hands as if he was sending someone away. She heard steps and a door sealing shut.

'I did not expect to see you,' he said quietly, eyeing her with a strange expression.

'Me neither. So… How are you?' Her voice quavered, but she really couldn't help it. 'Where are you? Back aboard the _Supremacy_ already?'

He narrowed his eyes. 'The _Supremacy_? You forgot your friends sent a bloody star destroyer right through her?'

She forced herself to smile. 'Nothing that can't be mended, I'm sure. Once she's back in service, she'll be better than ever, eh?'

His always intense gaze stepped up its game and she felt his eyes boring into hers. His eyes were like black holes, impossible to get away from once you got caught; she was unable to look away, or break contact, or blink, and wasn't sure if she even wanted to.

'What _do_ you want?' he asked so softly she could scarcely hear him, as if he had read her last thought.

'Nothing,' she murmured, 'I just… I just…'

'You are nervous.'

'Hum.' She shrugged and forced another smile. 'A little maybe.'

'But you're _never_ nervous. Angry, annoyed, belligerent, but never nervous. And there is something else… Shame?'

'Let's not talk about me. How about you? Are you looking forward to go back to the _Supremacy_?'

He observed her so closely, she felt like a drop of fluid under a microscope, and just as transparent.

All of a sudden, his eyes widened as if in shock. 'Oh you – you – _witch!_ You're here to sound me out?!'

'No, I –'

' _You!_ I'd never have thought it possible!'

Moral indignation from a man like him would have been an object for abject ridicule to her on any other day, but in this moment her own feeling of ignominy overwhelmed all other faculties.

He stared at her in disbelief, his otherwise so pale cheeks flushing an angry red and his eyes flaming. 'I _trusted_ you!'

'I –'

'Allow me to quote you – this conversation is _over_ ,' he spat, and with the same movement that had taken her so much effort to learn, he zipped up their connection and was gone.

She sank back against the wall behind her and fought against the already brimming tears.

x X x

 **14\. The Rage of Kylo Ren**

The three career bureaucrats who had been summoned from their respective homeworlds to the _Finalizer_ in order to give the new Supreme Leader the benefit of their expert opinions and who had just been expelled from the great man's office for no reason – in mid-sentence so to speak – stood in the hallway eyeing each other in clueless mystification. Was it something either of them had said?

"Excuse me, but what are we supposed to do now?" one dared to ask one of the Stormtroopers stationed before the entrance.

"Just wait," came the laconic answer.

A scream of rage sounded through the door at this point, startling the visitors, and was followed by the noise of the violent destruction of office supplies and furniture. The bureaucrats shared another alarmed glance, then scanned the corridor for possible hideaways when the door burst open five seconds later and Kylo Ren stormed out, his face contorted, his black cloak swooshing behind him portentously.

Two of them stared after the man who hadn't even seemed to notice them still standing around there. The third risked a peek inside the office and recoiled.

Kylo almost ran to the bridge, itching to get his hands around Hux's scrawny throat – no Force choke, he wanted to _feel_ the bastard squirming underneath his fingers! In his fury, he hadn't bothered to check where the general actually was, or he would have seen the bridge was not it. Who knew, this oversight might have saved the general's life, but it was cause for much distress in the other officers present when Kylo Ren burst in on them like an affliction, murder written in his eyes.

"Where. Is. He," he snarled, prompting Captain Peavey to make a bold command decision, namely to protect his and his inferiors' health.

"I believe General Hux is inspecting one of the Stormtrooper legions," he lied – as per usual, he didn't have the slightest clue, but it didn't seem a good idea to frustrate the Supreme Leader even further.

"Which one!"

"I don't know, Supreme Leader, sir."

Ren turned on his heel and strode out, watched by his officers with the same kind of fearful bewilderment that the bureaucrats had displayed.

"Well, we had a good run," Lieutenant Draxo joked shakily. "I'd really hoped he'd grow out of it."

x X x


	7. Anger Management

**VII. ANGER MANAGEMENT**

 _I am! yet what I am none cares or knows,  
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;  
I am the self-consumer of my woes,  
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,  
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;  
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost_

 _Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,  
Into the living sea of waking dreams,  
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,  
But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems;  
And e'en the dearest—that I loved the best—  
Are strange—nay, rather stranger than the rest._

 _JOHN CLARE – I Am!_

* * *

 **1.**

General Hux did not inspect any legion of Stormtroopers that day, but Kylo only caught on to that after already having checked on four of them. The monitor which would have allowed him to localise the general was lying innocently in the debris of what could no longer be called his office. However, the sheer distance between his different destinations allowed him to walk off some of his anger and afforded him even one or two minor instances of self-knowledge.

It might have been glaringly obvious to anyone but himself, but it really took him a while to see that his rage wasn't so much incited by this further proof of Hux's disloyalty. He had never for one minute assumed that Hux wasn't trying his all to get rid of him. For goodness' sake, he had learnt that the louse was actually _spying on him_ and had only retaliated by pushing him through a wall at the next opportunity. So he had kept the repair of the _Supremacy_ secret from him, doubtlessly for nefarious purposes, perhaps even hoping he could use it in a rebellion against Kylo – but did it really _matter?_ Did he itch to squeeze the life out of the bastard? _Of course_ he did! But what would he gain by murdering him _now_ , other than temporary satisfaction? He didn't delude himself that the snakes would simply grow a couple of new heads. At least he knew these particular snakes and how to keep them in check. He'd settle all those bills in one fell strike on the day of the final reckoning when avenging his mother's death after all.

And on the bright side – the _Supremacy_ was going to be back in service! It was no Starkiller Base, nor a Death Star, but it was the mightiest dreadnought the galaxy had ever seen, and would surely suffice as a deterrent to any further flares of insurgency.

x X x

 **2\. Kicked**

 _Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love._

 _ROSE WALKER – Sandman_

When Rey hadn't returned from the store rooms three hours later, Finn got up to look after her (fooling no one with his claim to go to the bathroom). Unsealing one door after the other, he finally found her in Han Solo's secret hideout.

"Leave me alone," she snapped as soon as he had wrenched the door open, but that didn't deter him. The room was much too low to stand in, so he crawled in on all fours. He was a bit perturbed that she was crouching in here in total darkness, now only slightly lit by the little light that fell in from the room outside. Then he saw that her cheeks were tearstained, which disturbed him very much indeed.

"How did it go?" he asked gently and put his hand on her forearm, which she pulled back as if he had slapped her.

"It didn't," she replied curtly. "You can tell Poe his great ploy of espionage came to nothing."

"Hey, that's okay –"

"No! It's _not okay_ , Finn! Now get lost, will you!"

"No one blames you –"

"That's nice," she hissed, "Now leave me alone."

He made no move indicating withdrawal though and instead opened his mouth, and with an automatic gesture of her hand, she somehow shoved him back through the small hatch which closed with a bang. A part of her was astonished at that so far unknown ability – but not nearly as dumbfounded as Finn, who found himself outside, still on hands and knees and gawking at the sealed door in front of him, when two seconds earlier he had been looking at Rey.

A wild mix of thoughts rushed over him, some to do with the hopeless situation the last of the Resistance were in if not even Rey's Force-connection to Kylo Ren could give them an edge over their enemies, some worries about poor Rey being forced to deal with that monster, but the chief of his concerns were more inward-looking.

He felt something he had no name for – 'rejection' – because it hadn't figured in his life so far. Stormtroopers weren't bred to have wishes, desires or hopes; that aside they were trained as something like brothers, at all times both ready to die for or sacrifice each other, as the case may be. Rejection on any level more personal than, say, not being elected for a special mission, didn't come into it. He simply had no tool in his arsenal to handle it.

Stumped as he was, he slumped against the next best wall, head bowed, eyes squeezed shut, overhearing Rey inside apparently boxing against a wall herself.

Poor kid, so affected by her lack of success, he thought, once again tender. _That's why she cast you out, she wants to face the failure on her own._ But some malevolent spirit in his head whispered that this wasn't it, or at least it wasn't the whole truth.

One of the simulations they had worked with during his Stormtrooper training had been about eliminating a dangerous insurgent, who had hidden away with his family in a system of caves, with each consecutive cave representing another level of difficulty. The first was the man's wife (sexy, alluring, armed and dangerous), the second his watchdog (after you had necessarily lost pieces of your armour before – the wife always managed to destroy _some_ bits of it). The third – and crucial, before facing the final enemy – was filled with his children, small, pitiful-looking creatures huddled together over a puppy, all huge-eyed and beseeching, and not incidentally armed with hand grenades (except for the dog, of course). At any rate, the picture of that puppy had somewhat stuck with him, it was the only thing not ready to attack (until you tried to take out the smallest child, that was), and the programmers had rendered it extra-cute and appealing to every softer feeling, all fluffy and anxious-eyed and pathetic.

In many ways, Finn felt much akin to that faithful little dog, and certainly everywhere where Rey was concerned. He would have followed her to the end of the galaxy, protected her by any means, there was no end to his devotion to her – and for some time he had kidded himself that she felt the same way about him. Maybe she even did, as far as loyalty and care were concerned – but right now, she would rather sit in there by herself than suffer his company, and this wasn't the first time either.

He remembered something Rose had once told him, about Rey possibly not being the same when she returned from Luke Skywalker. He had dismissed it then, defensive as much as scornful. Yes, people changed over time – but he had known the girl for no more than two months, how much could anybody change in such a short period of time?! And yet, as so often, Rose seemed proven to have been right. In a way, even his Stormtrooper instructors, forever warning them against the Jedi and their wiles, had been proven right: Send a simple, unspoilt girl to a Jedi master – and she'd come back moody and farouche.

He got up with a lump in his throat and went back up to the cockpit. Poe cast him a grin. "I was wondering if the toilet had swallowed you."

"Ha ha, very funny. You go down and talk to her."

Poe spotted his downcast expression and frowned. "It didn't work, uh?"

"I don't think so. And she's beating herself up about it."

The other man sighed, called for Chewbacca to take over and did as bidden, thinking his new-found leadership was asked for and finding it was not. The girl plainly told him to go to hell, which he did in a manner of speaking, with a shrug and sigh that were nothing if not heart-felt. It had been a plan born out of desperation and highly unlikely to succeed – yet it was the only one he had been able to come up with.

Finn was surprised to see him back so soon. "And?"

"She said something rhyming with duck Moff."

Chewbacca burst out laughing, but Finn could only goggle. She wouldn't talk even to _Poe_? Oh, it must be bad indeed! He had suspected for some time that Rey had – hum, a _soft spot_ – for their pilot. How could she not, Poe was all dashing and debonair, with that devil-may-care attitude and his scruffy good looks, and all the well-established flying ace and hero credentials. As far as Finn had seen so far, pretty much every female between 16 and 60 had a thing for Poe, from the youngest assistant technicians to tough-as-nails commanders like Vice-Admiral Holdo, or even General Organa. Finn didn't mind or feel any jealousy – except regarding that one female, of course – he didn't need nor want countless women fancying him, he only wanted The One.

"Rose, maybe you can… You know," Poe now said.

"Has it occurred to either of you that maybe, just maybe, she just wants to be left in peace?" the young woman answered.

"But she's down there all by herself, hammering against the walls!"

Poe slowly nodded. "Yeah. We're a team. That means no one gets left behind."

"From what I hear, she's not asking to be left _behind_ , just to be left alone," Rose murmured but got to her feet regardless. She made a whistling noise that was answered by BB-8 and the two of them vanished, soon followed by the characteristic clonking noise BB-8 made when descending any stairs.

"That's one bright idea," Poe said appreciatively. Finn nodded.

Three minutes later, Rose was back, without the droid though, answering their questioning faces with a wan smile.

"She's in no mood to talk, but she let BB-8 in."

"Did she say anything else?" Finn asked anxiously.

Rose recalled the remark about the guys being 'blasted idiots', but refrained from repeating this and just shook her head. From the brief glimpse she had caught of the other woman, she hadn't got the impression that Rey was too much rattled by not getting any information from Kylo Ren. The anguish in her face had been of a different kind. But that, too, was something she rather kept to herself.

x X x

 **3.**

 _Karma police  
I've given all I can  
It's not enough  
I've given all I can  
But we're still on the payroll_

 _This is what you'll get…  
For a minute there  
I lost myself, I lost myself_

 _RADIOHEAD – Karma Police_

Chief among the many disadvantages of living a solitary life like Rey's on Jakku was her lack of experience in handling conflict other than by whirling her staff at an assailant. Neither had she ever had any reason to be seriously angry with herself. She now had to find that it was most disconcerting and she had no idea how to deal with the hard ball of fury and shame knotting her insides and pressing against her windpipe. At first, she had cried, but it hadn't helped. Next she had pounded against the walls with her fists until they had hurt so much she had to stop, not feeling a jot better.

Her past life had taught her that one could distract oneself from hunger, thirst, fear or disheartenment by lots and lots of work, but either she couldn't pull off that trick any longer, or it didn't work in a case like this. All through the day she had laboured on the blocked hyperdrive cooler, but that one's stubborn refusal to yield to her efforts only heightened her grievance.

She was just so, _so_ mad! With Finn and Poe and Chewbacca for extorting her to go against her own better judgment, with – _him_ (she found it difficult to call him 'Kylo Ren', it just felt wrong) for being such a self-righteous prat, but most of all, with herself.

She had let herself being blackmailed to do something she had _known_ to be wrong from the start. She didn't understand what it was that linked them, but she instinctively grasped that it was a special bond. A bond she had betrayed and abused, no matter how good her reasons had been. What had Luke said? The end doesn't always justify the means. Boy, he had got that one right! And just because the man she had failed was vile did not make her own iniquity any better.

She had lost the moral high ground – now hang on. Where did that thought come from? _Moral high ground?!_ This wasn't the sort of language she used –

But that was side-tracking. Stick to the point, Rey! She had done wrong, and if one had done wrong, one ought to apologise. It was as simple as that.

But when she tried to do just that, as soon as he noticed her he zipped her away with a look of contempt.

She stared into the darkness, feeling even more furious and unhappy than before, and thoroughly lonely.

x X x

 **4.**

Kylo Ren was no stranger to betrayal in his trust. He had felt betrayed by his parents as a child, when they had left him alone, when they had sent him away. He had experienced betrayal when his master – his own effing _uncle!_ – had tried to murder him in his sleep. He even knew how it felt to be the traitor, had experienced it first-hand after stabbing his father, and Snoke. No, not Snoke. He had pledged his allegiance to the bastard, but Snoke had been the one to betray _his_ trust in him first – and many, many times, if you thought about it! – his former master had _begged_ for retaliation, hadn't he! _Both_ of his former masters had, but while the confrontation with Luke had left him bewildered and frustrated, he relished the memory of paying Snoke back in kind.

At any rate, betrayal and dishonesty topped his list of despicability, but if he had believed that he had learnt how to deal with them, he now had to realise that he had been woefully mistaken. Until yesterday, he had thought that he could never feel more let down than he had in the night Luke had turned against him, that never again he would be so disappointed by anyone for whatever reason. Wrong!

How _could_ she! Seriously, _how?_ And how could _he_ have allowed himself to be so blinded, so naïve, so – so -

The mere memory of the complete and utterly unfounded trust he had had in that girl made him grab for his sword and ignite it in the same instance, slashing it through the wall he happened to be facing in that second with all his might, and again even harder, and again until it collapsed.

It would have astonished anyone who had ever met him, but as a matter of fact, Kylo Ren was a man extremely skilled at self-control. He had practised it since infancy, strictly and stubbornly, and ninety-nine percent of the time he had himself well in hand (frankly, this was the only reason why Armitage Hux was still alive!). He could tolerate disappointment, fury and fear, even physical pain to a very high degree; he had to. He just bottled it all up and put it away to be reviewed another day. As a consequence, he was bursting at the seams with suppressed emotion most of the time, and when that barrel was full, it didn't simply spill – it _exploded_.

His mother had used to call it 'temper tantrums', not counting how many pleas or angry answers her son had bitten down, how many 'no's' he had swallowed before bursting. It had been fearful to behold that usually so quiet, obedient child losing it completely, or if he had actually managed to somehow hold on, vases had burst, electric devices imploded, papers spontaneously combusted, window panes shattered. To give Han Solo credit, he had more than once tried to sit down with his boy and figure out what had gone wrong. In these situations, however, it had been his beloved Ama who wouldn't have any of it, sending the child away to his room to 'think about what you've done!' without sympathy or further questions. Han Solo had been fallible and known it – his wife had exerted rigid self-control at all times and expected nothing less from her family, her son in particular. So he had been banned to his room and pondered indeed, not quite knowing what had actually happened with that lamp, or cup, or boiler – and knowing even less how else he should have reacted when he had been so full of disappointment and sadness that they had choked him, and all his will wasn't enough to keep the lid on – but the only possible outlet that would have blown off some of the steam was forbidden.

But those had been the fits of a small boy. Now he was a grown man whose physical strength and command of the Force made him dangerous, and he knew it. As a result, he had further tightened his grip on himself – and regarded the occasional wrecked console or desk or door an acceptable sacrifice, compared to the fact that he could accidentally kill people in the room next door with a flick of his thumb.

Incidentally, it usually worked. Physical exertion (and thrashing a wall with all his might was nothing if not that) usually helped him to regain an amount of equilibrium that he – and others! – could live with. But he had already destroyed his entire office the day before beyond any hope of repair and it had done _nothing_ for him this time. Now he had carved himself an ensuite bathroom (literally!) and didn't feel any better either.

How could she have betrayed him so! He had believed she was different, special, he had _treasured_ the link they shared.

Why, though? He shook his head at himself. This wasn't the first time she had let him down, was it? Time to face the music, boy. She _wasn't_ special, and neither was their connection. It had never been any more than Snoke's last trick to get to Luke Skywalker and keep his terrier on a leash at the same time.

He smirked grimly. Well, that one at least had backfired with a bang; he wouldn't have dreamt of rebelling against Snoke and his authority if it hadn't been for that woman and the bond he had felt with her. He had never in his life truly bonded with anybody, and when he had seen in her mind that she would stand by him (against what though he had not seen) the consequent blissfulness had permeated his whole being and overwhelmed all other faculties. So he had killed his master to save her. And she _had_ stood with him. Just not in the way he had figured.

He had _begged_ her to stay with him, but she had remained inexorable. She too only wanted to use him by exploiting his weakness. She was just the same like everybody else. And he was absolutely alone.

x X x

 **5\. Subtext**

The constructors of the _Millennium Falcon_ had not taken into account that one day someone on board could find it necessary to practise wielding a six-foot quarterstaff with a lightsabre at each end. The ceiling did not take well to that attempt, and while Rey managed to quickly fix the problem, it upset her friends more than she thought necessary.

Chewbacca threw a roaring fit that was thankfully untranslatable, Rose winced and pointed out with a mien of forced patience that the ship already depended more on super glue than it could possibly take, Poe cussed like a drunken pirate, and Finn, usually her greatest champion, got _really_ verbose too.

"Look, it was an _accident_ –"

"You can't fool around with a laser sword in here!"

"It's not a sword."

"Don't you start splitting hairs with me!"

"Stop telling me what I should do and what not!"

"We _barely_ made it so far –"

"And may I remind you who patched the bloody thing up in the first place?!"

"You think that gives you the right to take her apart again?!"

"I _said_ it was an accident!"

"Yes, you did. About eight times or so. What I didn't hear you say just once though was ' _sorry'_."

Her eyes flashed as she played back their row in her head and found to her great embarrassment that he was right, but she was far too much out of sorts to admit it.

"Oh, didn't I! I didn't hear _you_ say sorry either –"

"Sorry for what!"

"You don't even know, do you!"

"As I recall it wasn't _me_ cutting up our only means of transport for the sheer fun of it."

As if on cue, there was the slight atmospheric tremor announcing the presence of damned Kylo Ren, but as her head whirled around to give him a piece of her mind, she saw he was no more pleased about the interruption than she was, mirroring her raised hand.

"Oh _go to hell_ , will you!" they spat and zipped each other away in perfect unison.

Poe, Rose and Finn stared at her as usual when something like that happened. "Was that –" Rose began but didn't get any further.

"And that's another thing," Finn interrupted her, "This has _got_ to stop!"

"I stopped it, didn't I!"

"You must put a stop to it altogether, Rey."

"I'm good with the Force, Finn. I'm not a bloody wizard!"

Poe tried to intervene in the calmest voice he could muster, and which he usually reserved to talk to children (unfortunately though, he had almost no experience with those to draw from). "He is right, Rey –"

"Of course, _you_ side with him!"

"No, I don't, I –"

"This is just like last time! 'You gotta stop it, Rey, you gotta stop it', but _bang_ , if it pleases you, it's suddenly, 'You gotta use your connection to him, Rey, do it, _do it_ , why aren't you doing it already!'"

Their stares climbed to another level of dismay and Rose murmured, " _That_ is what this is all about?"

Rey shot around to her. "Look who's joined the fray!"

"I just –"

"Leave me alone, all of you, damn it!" she hissed and took her staff as well as herself down into the store rooms once again.

Finn glared after her. "What is _wrong_ with you!" he shouted after her retreating back.

x X x

 **6.**

 _And just because I'm weak,  
You can steal my dreams:  
You can reach inside my head,  
You can put your song there instead._

 _STEVEN WILSON – The Raven That Refused to Sing_

She was seething with anger, chiefly with Finn, obviously, to a very slightly lesser degree with Poe and Rose, but mostly with herself. Not only did she know just too well that she shouldn't have been so careless with the _Falcon_ and that their survival depended on this ship and its continued integrity, but she was aware that Rose was right (she usually was). This _was_ about their urging her to exploit her link with Kylo Ren. Worse, it was about her doing it, and not getting that sense of guilt off her chest.

Why had she given in? If she had known (and she _had_ known) it was wrong from the start? Because she couldn't have borne to let down her friends, that's why – still, it was far less their fault than her own; they might have pressed her, but _she_ had been the one with the knowledge of its wrongness. The realisation that one could do something wrong, fully aware it was wrong but doing it regardless, was entirely new to Rey. Morals hadn't featured much in her previous life, when she had only had herself to please.

Perhaps to justify herself, she focused on all the wrongs _he_ had committed; she had a rich cornucopia to pick from but somehow, she zoomed in on the one that had mortified her the most: his murder of his own father. She knew he repented that one and had known too, that it had been wrong even before the deed itself (she recollected his exact words, spoken softly but carried upwards due to the strange gramophone horn acoustics of the duct, 'I know what I have to do, but I don't know if I have the strength to do it.').

Yet he had done it. Maybe one had to fall to be able to understand the downfall of others.

When they had encountered before that night, he had been – well, 'friendly' wasn't the word _at all_ , but – sort of pleased, maybe? Not unwelcoming, at any rate. Ever since though…

She knew it was wrong, but she was far too upset and not doing anything seemed even worse on the sliding scale of wrongness, so she cast out her mind to sense when he went to sleep. It wasn't too difficult; he was _very_ tense at the best of times while he was awake, but even when riddled by bad dreams, at least his body relaxed somewhat during those hours. She waited a while, then made herself comfortable and reached out.

For a second she didn't recognise the room; parts of it looked as if a bomb had gone off, one wall was missing completely. He was lying on his cot only half-dressed, if at all. The blanket had slid down far enough to reveal his muscular chest and parts of his firm stomach; the scar she had given him ran down from his collarbone to his abdomen like an angry red snake slithering through snow. Usually, she would have looked away, but unfortunately this particular kind of connection didn't allow her as much as closing her eyes. His hair was tousled, and his face much, much younger than she was used to. How old was he, twenty-five? Something like that. As he was lying there, he looked scarcely older than eighteen. Well, his face did. The rest was pretty much a grown man.

Like before, she could see his dream in the background, but for once it was not a real nightmare. In a whirl of colours, mainly blues and greens, planets and suns were gyrating in an intricate pattern. The dreams of the ruler of the galaxy, she thought with a tinge of wry humour, until realising that some of them had faces, _were_ faces. By now she recognized Leia as she had been when she was young, there was Han Solo, there was Luke, why, even C-3PO and Chewbacca. She saw a dark man with a majestic moustache and twinkling eyes, a woman with violet hair and a sarcastic sneer, and lots of boys younger than she was or just about her age with malicious grins, who seemed to bump into the other planets on purpose. Snoke was there, too, quite prominent but not as menacing as she remembered him. At the outermost margin, there was a black star, untouched by sunlight, untouched by anything going on, just circling the organized chaos in the middle from afar. And in that middle a child, maybe six or eight, with an obviously sunny disposition (it was a sun, too) beaming away with a radiant smile while innocently burning anything in its vicinity. For a split second Rey mistook it to be Ben Solo himself, then chided herself. Not only was it clearly a girl, but also she bore not a remote semblance to him, neither as child or man, her hair was much lighter coloured and her skin far more tanned. She felt a linger of faint recognition, until she managed to drag herself away. Spying on his dreams was _not_ what she had come for. To the contrary!

She – mentally – settled on the side of the cot and lowered her head to whisper in his ear. 'I know you can't hear me,' she murmured, and in that pose she for once could not see that the images in his dreams changed and displayed herself unmistakably, in just the position she was holding now, with just the same expression. 'You don't want to talk to me, and that's okay. I get it. I really do. If I were you… Yes, I'd be mad at me, too – I _am_ mad at myself, believe you me. I wouldn't want to talk to me either. But I still need you to know that I am sorry. I know I was out of line. _Wrong_ , okay? There, I said it, and I mean it. I know it was – _I_ was wrong. I should never have – and speaking of it, I know I shouldn't even be here. But as there is no other way to tell you and you really ought to know… I am so sorry, and I hope one day you'll forgive me, but even if you don't, I had to say it at least once.'

She contemplated the face next to her for a minute, oddly soothed by its tranquillity until the dark long lashes started to flutter and the full lips opened.

"Rey," the man said in his sleep, giving her such a shock that she withdrew at once.

x X x

 **7.**

Armitage Hux might well know never to accept a drink offered to him by his only friend, but luckily, that level of caution was uncommon among the other officers, so when Captain Phasma invited Captain Trant for a friendly nightcap that evening, he was only too glad to accept. He was a wizened veteran of the Empire almost in his seventies, but that didn't imply that the company of a strapping young woman knowing how to wield a baton didn't still make his heart beat faster – which she was well aware of, as a matter of fact she had selected him for exactly those reasons.

They had talked of this and that over their first few glasses; carefully and supported by admiring smiles, Phasma had had no difficulties whatsoever to steer the conversation to the 'good old days' and allowed him to reminiscence in his own good time while subtly nudging him into the direction she had in mind.

Trant hadn't felt so alive in _ages_ ; even the booze tasted better while he was ogling that tasty bit of skirt (well, chromium) hanging on his lips. Once he hit on the topic of Darth Vader, her sparkling blue eyes grew even wider – _of course_ they did, the man was the stuff of legend, and he – Torkan Trant – had actually _known_ him. Granted, he had been scared witless _then_ , but that was all so long ago and certainly nothing he'd tell the girl. Oh, the _power!_ The _incredible_ feats! How, only armed with his red laser sword, he would walk unscathed through rows and rows of his enemies shooting at him out of all barrels, like the Grim Reaper!

Her mouth as round as her eyes, Phasma breathed, "Oh! I wish I could have seen it…"

Trant gave her an indulgent smile.

"Do you…" she shyly went on, "Do you believe – but this is silly."

"No, no. Please go ahead!"

"Oh well… It's just mess gossip, really. I'm sure you must have heard it too. But some of the Praetorian guards said that – well, that Supreme Leader Ren is actually _related_ – to Darth Vader, I mean."

Trant was a little torn. He liked this girl and was jealous enough not to heap praise on another – living! – man much more in her age group. His instinct as an officer on the other hand prohibited disloyalty of any kind. It was his basic honesty that won the day.

"Might well be, for all I know. Much more machine than human, when _I_ knew him, of course. But even Vader must have been young once. Who can say what he did then."

He wriggled his brows suggestively and it was all Phasma could do not to laugh at this ridiculous display. She forced her mien into a simper, and 'confessed' in a giggly voice, "It frightens me a little. The Force, I mean. There's just so much I don't know about it – don't understand…"

After that, it was like shooting at sitting targets. Trant told her everything he knew about the Force (and more; in fact, he made up some things as he went along in order to impress her), scarcely noticing how very, _very_ drunk he got. It wasn't the alcohol though that knocked him out eventually, but some drops of a substance that would let him forget most of what had gone on before, even that he had not as much as touched the hand of that glorious creature before him.

x X x

 **8.**

"You seem chipper," Poe remarked when she entered the hold in the next morning.

She grinned. "Aren't I always?"

He gave her a mocking look as if to say 'Not lately, darling,' but let it pass. "Had a good night?"

Rey had had an excellent night of deep sleep indeed, filled with what must have been pleasant dreams, given her mood, but which she couldn't remember very clearly. Something about some thrilling heist or other; she and her little rebel pilot had been master burglars breaking into an extremely well-guarded museum, but instead of stealing something, they had _brought_ a painting and hung it on a wall.

"Oh yes," she said.

"I should give the hull a try one day. Chewie's snoring up here gives me the pips."

"I thought the idea was that neither of you sleeps at the same time."

"Ah bah, the memory of it pursues me even when I sleep."

Chewbacca retorted spiritedly from the cockpit and they all snickered.

"I'm sorry, Poe," she said.

"It's okay, kid. The strain is wearing all our nerves thin. But perhaps you could talk to Finn. He – took it really bad."

"I'm sorry."

Poe gave her smile. "Don't tell me. Tell _him_."

So that's what she did. It was wrong what they said, about sorry being the hardest word – there was not a single word in Galactic Basic more liberating.

x X x

 **9.**

 _Sometimes the truth is arrived at by adding all the little lies together and deducting them from the totality of what is known._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT – Going Postal_

What a good night's sleep could do for you! In the morning Kylo found that he rose in much higher spirits than he had gone to bed with.

He couldn't really remember what he had dreamt of, something about the Force, and how it held the galaxy together, the entire universe really, and then _she_ had made some appearance, too. The evening before, he had been so mad at her still, even madder than he had been after she had abandoned him that night on the _Supremacy_ (when he had been _so_ mad – in every sense of the word – that he had taken on the job as Supreme Leader, only so he could order Hux to go after the last remains of the Resistance, or more precisely, the people she had chosen over him), but six hours of uninterrupted slumber were enough for him to make his peace with her – well, truce, anyway – and the connection they had with each other.

It may have been Snoke's doing – and thinking about it, he started to wonder if that claim hadn't just been another lie, because the faint familiarity with her felt much older than his first ever encounter with his former master. And that day on Takodana… Snoke hadn't known then who was causing that rippling in the Force, just that it was there. Kylo though had somehow recognised the presence of something he had known all his life as soon as setting his foot on the planet – and assumed it must be due to his father's presence. As soon as setting eyes on her though, he had felt like meeting someone he had vaguely known forever, while at the same time knowing for a fact that they had never met before. He hadn't given it much thought then, chiefly because she had been shooting out of all barrels at him and later, because his hatred of Luke Skywalker had been at the forefront of his mind. The bewilderment had returned during their fight on Starkiller Base and not lessened since.

At some point – shortly after the Crait debacle – he had wondered if it could all be due to the Rule of Two of old Sith lore, but dismissed the idea as soon as it had come. Neither of them would ever be the other one's master. Also, there was as much chance of convincing her to join the Dark side as he had of convincing General Hux to put on a tutu and a paper hat and do a little dance in the cantina. Somehow though, he had come not only to accept this, but cherish it even. 'Darkness rises and light to meet it,' Snoke had said and for once in his rotten life, he might have been spot on; the way he saw it, young Rey from Jakku was simply his equivalent in the Force (the more power he had, the more she gained, and vice versa), as well as his polar opposite (he was of darkness, of royalty, the ultimate result of a stiflingly entangled family and its history – she was of the light, of origins so humble not even her own family had thought it worth remembering, and crafted herself out of absolutely nothing).

It was fine, really, if you thought about it.

x X x

 **10\. A Gift**

 _Now you're standing there tongue tied  
You'd better learn your lesson well  
Hide what you have to hide  
And tell what you have to tell_

 _DEPECHE MODE – Policy of Truth_

Four Stormtroopers carefully wheeled the thing through the corridors as they were following their leader in his full fighting armour. They had been admonished not to drop, upset or otherwise meddle with it. It wouldn't have needed such an explicit order; none of them was suicidal.

Eventually, they arrived at the bridge, where twenty Graysuits were busy with whatever it was they were doing (Stormtroopers were often scornful of officers, thinking those never saw any _real_ combat) but stopped dead in their tracks as soon as the Supreme Leader entered. The only one not impressed was General Hux, who visibly forced his face into a respectful mien as he saluted and opened his mouth for a greeting but didn't get so far.

"General Hux, in order to celebrate our return to the _Supremacy_ , the mightiest starship the galaxy has ever beheld, I have a gift for you," Kylo said sardonically and indicated at the strange object behind him. It seemed to be a kind of black cylinder, perhaps four feet tall, heavy, and covered by a steel dome.

Hux hardly noticed it; at the mention of the name ' _Supremacy'_ , he had stiffened as if Kylo had paralysed him. Shock and panic radiated from him like a nasty smell. "Supreme Leader, sir, I don't know what to say –" he managed to mutter, making it clear that he really didn't.

" _Of course_ _not_. You don't even know what it is yet."

He nodded at one of the Stormtroopers – FN-1816 – to remove the dome. Twenty sharp intakes of breath were the only thing audible in the moment when a burnt, half-molten black mask was revealed, lying on a bed of ashes. FN-1816 nearly dropped the dome in shock. Was this – could it be –

"My predecessor, Supreme Leader Snoke, once presented me with this," Kylo declaimed in a deceptively soft voice, his gaze locked with the other man's. "Come here, General. Feel the power for yourself."

Clearly against his will or better judgment, Hux obeyed. When Kylo ordered him to touch the mask, he even reached out – but couldn't bring himself to make contact. Ah, well, the Supreme Leader was having none of that. With one little move of his finger, Hux's gloves flew of, another immobilised the whole man and made him lay his hands on the cold material, which instantly became scorching hot.

Kylo's gaze was boring into him; in his head, Hux heard inhuman screams of terror and agony, the din of gigantic explosions, the roar of all-consuming conflagrations, bombs and blasterfire, as well as the unmistakable sound of a lightsabre. There was not a drop of blood left in his face when Kylo finally released his grip on him; he staggered and would have crashed against the large urn, but Kylo kept him on his feet with another little move of his hand.

"It is glorious, don't you think?" he asked with a knowing smirk. "It was a gift to reward me for my faithful service. I thought it only befitting to pass it on to my deputy now. It will be a wonderful boost to morale to have it on the bridge of the _Supremacy_ on display, wouldn't you agree?"

Hux gaped at him, his face a mask of horror.

x X x

 **11.**

 _You had something to hide  
Should have hidden it, shouldn't you  
Now you're not satisfied  
With what you're being put through_

 _It's just time to pay the price  
For not listening to advice_

 _DEPECHE MODE – Policy of Truth_

Since infancy General Hux had imbibed knowledge on military warfare and tactical manoeuvring, refining both to a fine art. It wasn't just his vanity that made him consider himself the greatest strategist of his age. However, on the topic of psychological warfare, he had a lot to learn still, he found as he was once again sitting together with his only confidante.

"Sometimes I wish he would just openly attack me and get it over with," he mumbled, absent-mindedly massaging his right hand that was still tingling on the inside (and trembling on the outside like the rest of him).

"I thought he was doing that almost on a daily basis," Phasma replied darkly.

"Phh. I mean _kill_ me!"

"You're of more use to him alive and frightened out of your skin."

" _How_ did he find out about the _Supremacy_? I checked all logs of communication, he hasn't been in contact with _anyone_."

"The Force," Phasma sighed laconically and took another deep swig. Her face was one brooding mask of discontent. She hadn't forgiven Ren's treatment of the Stormtrooper program and she never ever would. Those were _her_ men; Supreme Leader or not, he had no _right_ to meddle with her troops!

"Or someone here has blabbed. I knew I had a bad feeling when he suddenly started taking an interest in his troops."

"No one except you and me on board of the _Finalizer_ knew about it. And even if – you can't punish someone for talking to their _Supreme Leader_ , can you."

Hux gazed over to her, wondering why she seemed to be even more out of sorts than he was – _she_ hadn't been forced to touch the rotten helmet of bloody Darth Vader and heard the screams of each and every of his victims!

It had been _dreadful_ , infinitely worse than Ren's usual means of punishment, which largely consisted of pushing his general against some wall or other. Hux could deal with _that_. But the very thought of Vader's mask staring at him all the time made his insides churn. Now he was tasked with the transferral of one hundred thousand soldiers to the _Supremacy_ within twenty-four hours (Ren had ordered a complete exchange of troops, insisting that the _Finalizer's_ staff down to its last man should accompany him to his new flagship), ruining Hux's best – and only – contingency plan in passing, which had of course been to have the _Supremacy_ blow the _Finalizer_ to pieces and the Supreme Leader with her.

Still – and he hated himself for the thought – he was ever so slightly impressed with the man. Because Ren was currently doing what nobody else in the First Order so far had even contemplated, namely preparing for the fact that there was a time after the war. Of course, it was the military that was the sovereign; without its power, no order could exist. But their numbers were yet too small to rule more than three million habitable star systems, not even with the _Supremacy_ and her spectacular new weapon. There had to be _some_ laws at least and a skeleton administration to govern the boisterousness that ruled in certain parts of the galaxy, and who knew, maybe Ren would withdraw to Coruscant and please himself in his new role. Hux thought he could even live with the prat if he'd do just that.

Phasma though, usually the voice of common sense between the two of them, saw things differently. "He must go," she snarled.

"Certainly. I'm sure as soon as we've established a proper capital –"

"No. He must _perish!_ "

"But –"

"You just wait. Tolerate this, and your officers will be next," she said darkly.

"I hate him as much as the next man – as you well know – but he's not stupid. He knows the First Order depends on its military –"

"Oh yes? Aren't my Stromtroopers part of your military, then?"

He gave her a long, measuring look, which might have disconcerted her if she hadn't been so drunk already. "Don't you keep on telling me not to stew over matters that I have no influence over anyway?"

"He thinks he can meddle with _me?_ He must _perish_ ," she repeated.

"May I remind you that with him being on board of the _Supremacy_ , offing him isn't really an option?"

"Pff!"

"Pff what!"

"I'd know how to do _that_."

"Oh, do you."

"Yes, I do. The Force may make him powerful, but not invincible. It is all just a matter of the right amount of – _oomph_ , my source called it."

"Your _source_ ," he echoed, curious despite himself.

"Let me put it this way – a blaster isn't the only thing you can shoot a man with."

"You interest me strangely, Captain. Go on!"

x X x

 **12\. Back On Takodana**

It had taken them long enough to get there, but eventually, the _Millennium Falcon_ landed on Takodana more or less in one piece. The sight from the ground was even worse than from the air – not a tenth of Maz Kanata's ancient and mighty castle was still standing, and for a very worried thirty seconds, Poe wondered if the old girl might have given up the site for good and moved on. Then they saw Emmie stalking out of a hole in one wall that had only half crumbled.

In what could only loosely be called 'inside' Maz welcomed them warmly, especially Chewbacca, whose knees she hugged affectionately. The two of them conversed for a minute in some language that neither of the others could identify, let alone understand, then Maz led them down a flight of stone steps into the former cellars.

"I had to repurpose my old dungeon," she explained as they entered a large cavernous room, dimly lit by little orange lights that resembled Maz' head, and filled to the brim with creatures from all walks of life.

"Gosh, the First Order really razed the place," Poe said mournfully. He had many strange and happy memories of the tavern as it had once been.

"The First Order? Oh no, half of it came down after they'd gone. We had a little dispute among ourselves."

"Union, I heard," Poe replied laconically, and received a broad grin.

"Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em," she said. "Same as usual? And you, Chewbacca?"

Almost out of nowhere, drinks appeared before them on the table Maz had ushered them to. Chewbacca and Poe needn't be asked twice, while Finn and Rey suspiciously eyed theirs. Only Rose didn't even notice the brightly green, bubbling substance before her, she was far too preoccupied gazing around.

"As you're new here, allow me to give you a tip, young lady," Maz said good-naturedly. "Don't stare. My patrons don't take to staring kindly."

"What about the no-violence rule?" Poe asked.

"I'm _trying_ to re-establish all the rules, my dear boy, but at present, I've got to make do with what I have, and what I do _not_ have is a good bouncer. What about it, Chewbacca? Can I tempt you?"

Chewbacca uttered a guttural growl, and once again, he and the old woman burst out in merry laughter and joked in that alien tongue before Maz squeezed herself between Finn and Rey. "I am very happy you two have made it so far," she said, then cast a shrewd look at Rey's staff. "So you did take to it after all, eh?"

"Yes, well, it sort of came to me."

Maz nodded. "The lightsabre has found you – and you have found what you were seeking, too."

Rey looked sad. "Yes, I did find Luke Skywalker eventually. But he's gone now."

"Luke Skywalker! But you weren't looking for him."

"I was, actually –"

"No, you were not," Maz said matter-of-factly, then subjected Rey to another long, searching look which made the girl deeply uncomfortable in spite of the old woman's kindly demeanour. 'The belonging you seek is not behind you, it is ahead. Feel the light, it's always been there. It will guide you', she had said when they had met for the first time – which was only weeks ago but seemed to belong to another lifetime – but Rey could make no more sense of her enigmatic mumblings than she could then.

"I meant to ask you," Poe threw in, "how you came by it in the first place."

"Thereby hangs a tale involving one of the architects building the second Death Star, his wife, her lover who was cooked by a gang of Kaleesh, which in turn were overrun by a slave revolt, one of those slaves traded it for a passage to Endor on board of a freighter whose co-pilot was mugged by a Whiphid, who owed money to a Wookiee who owed money to a Gabdorin who owed money to a Duro who happens to be one of my oldest friends from way, way back, and gave it to me before it could cause even more trouble. That's it in a nutshell. Remind me to tell you the whole thing one day, it is pretty good, the parts with the architect's wife's lover and the Zeltron in particular."

"What Zeltron?"

"Wouldn't you like to know _that_!"

x X x

 **13.**

Lieutenant Draxo was the first to have spotted it by following a faint trace in the _Supremacy's_ logs, and quietly summoned her direct superior Captain Peavey to take a look and relieve her of a decision. Peavey stared at the monitor for a minute until exchanging a long glance with her. "Well done," he muttered, and Draxo knew he wasn't talking of her having located the ship.

The chain of command should have prompted Captain Peavey to pass the information on to _his_ superior officer, but he didn't trust General Hux not to do something very, _very_ silly which might get them all killed, so he took his communicator instead and announced loudly, "Supreme Leader, we have found the _Millennium Falcon_."

Hux swivelled around, staring at his subordinate and the communicator in his hand, then put on a slightly tormented mien. "Excellent, Captain," he huffed, trying to conceal his anger and not quite succeeding.

x X x

 **14.**

They sat like this for hours, eating, drinking, talking. Maz soon disabused them of their unacknowledged hopes that she would join them, or could otherwise offer much help other than letting them stay for however long they wished. This naturally put a damper on their mood and they drank even more. Soon, Rose slumbered and snored softly, Poe had joined some Ganthelians on a table at the other side of the room who 'still owed him a gigantic favour', Chewbacca and Maz were preoccupied by a quarrel, but both Finn and Rey were too tipsy to wonder why Maz' part of it wasn't delivered in that strange language she had used to talk to the Wookiee before.

"The child was always a handful. Mind you, not obstreperous like other children, or rowdy, or even disobedient. Just sad and troubled. It broke your heart just to look at him."

Chewbacca barked.

"Nonsense, you said just the same, then."

She was answered by a growl.

"You _loved_ that boy, Chewie."

Another bark.

"Well, what do you expect when you have your child practically raised by a protocol droid? You know how fond I was of Han, but they messed that kid up. It's common enough with parents, seeing themselves in their children and falsely concluding that they were just like them. Han liked being left to his own devices and thought so would his son. And don't get me started on Leia! Ain't no mountain high enough, and no expectation either!"

Chewbacca hammered his fist on the table, swiftly waking even Rose up – who looked around startled and confused – before she dozed off again.

"I know she was like a sister to you, but you know I'm right. Somewhere between expecting him to become the greatest Jedi ever, and the future leader of the Senate – and she got her wish fulfilled after all, in a manner of speaking."

The Wookiee howled his disagreement.

"Say what you will. I warned Han, I told him not to leave the child alone all the time. and that he'd take their sending him away as a punishment for being what he is. Some kids can take it, others can't. _He_ couldn't, and the entire galaxy must drink what they brewed up there."

One of the other customers, a human wearing an ornate white and silver headdress, leaned over. "They're talking about Kylo Ren, right?"

Finn shook his head vaguely and shrugged. "I have no idea, man."

"If you ask me, the guy's a bloody hero."

"What?"

"Sure, it's a shame about the Hosnian system –"

"But that was old man Snoke," one of his mates, an awfully large Falleen, threw in.

"Right," the first man said. "I was a bit sceptical about the First Order in the beginning, but boy, do they deliver or what."

"What?!"

"Magnificent, if they can pull it through. One law for _all_ –"

"Are you kidding me?!"

"– like outlawing slavery on _every_ planet, and putting an end to that rotten Stormtrooper program –"

"What on earth are you even talking about?!"

The Falleen shook his head. "It's a pity it won't work."

His friend rolled his eyes. "Look, we've had that. Give 'em a chance, I say!"

"I would. But they can't make it against the slavers on the long run, and the trader planets. Where do you think the money's coming from?"

"They overthrew the damned Republic, they'll handle some goddamned slavers."

Finn stared at them, wondering if he would understand them a little better if only he hadn't axed seven of Maz' colourful drinks. That man in the headdress was against the Republic _and_ slavery?! How was that even possible? Wasn't it like – you had to decide on which side you stood, the good guys', or the evil bastards'? You didn't get to put a foot in both camps!

He helplessly glanced over to Rose, who had the soundest knowledge of galactic politics among the five of them and also the most reliable moral compass, but she was deeply asleep once more.

"Looks like you're not the only fan of Kylo Ren," he grumbled into Rey's direction.

She looked back at him over Maz' head. "Let's not get started with this again."

Poe had just returned to hear that exchange, sneering as he sat down with a large glass of some disturbingly frothy liquid. "Yeah, Finn. Don't forget. They have this _bond_."

Rey scowled at him as yet another customer from yet another table joined the argument. This was a female Abednedo with a pronounced accent. " _You know Kylo Ren?_ " she asked, each word like a whiplash.

"Know him!" Poe snarled. "She spends half of her time in his kriffing _head_!"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"You better ask _her_ , because I don't get it either," Poe groaned. "Blimey, I preferred this place when it still had the 'No politics'-rule."

The Abednedo's black eyes narrowed as she mustered the young woman once more. "You don't look like First Order trash."

Rey returned her look, angry and slightly at a loss. What was she supposed to say to that? Thank you?! "I am with the Resistance," she said with as much dignity as her alcohol-induced slur permitted.

That statement only briefly pacified the Abednedo (so what'd he mean, then?), got the two men from the other table going again (they were against it), amused a group of Corellians nearby (what Resistance, there is no more Resistance), and led to a whole new row involving twenty people or more in various states of drunkenness, during which an increasingly drunk Poe let it slip how exactly Rey and Kylo _Fucking_ Ren were connected to each other. He regretted it in the moment the words had left his mouth, not only because of the huge outcry of fear and outrage among the other patrons who vividly recalled the First Order's last raid and suddenly expected yet another, or because Rey shakily got to her feet with a look of sad resignation. She slowly staggered outside, carefully navigating her way through half a dozen brawls. Finn would have followed her, but was pulled back by both Poe and Maz.

"Give her some space, man," Poe said, feeling like an arsehole.

x X x

 **15\. Take Off**

 _Change. Change. Change. Change … change. Change. Chaaange. When you say words a lot they don't mean anything. Or maybe they don't mean anything anyway,  
and we just think they do._

 _DELIRIUM – Sandman_

The unfairness of it all depressed Rey like a large load on her shoulders. It wasn't _her_ fault that she was connected to Kylo Ren! But not even her friends understood that, or stuck up for her. And maybe they did have a point, maybe she was putting them all at risk whether she wanted to or not.

The night was pitch-dark; it was raining sturdily, but not even the heavy drops could cheer her up as they usually did. Soon, she was drenched to the core, not much later she started to shiver. Her common sense told her to just return and find some room in the labyrinthine cellars to lie down and catch some sleep, or go back to the _Falcon_ , but she baulked at either option. She needed to be alone. So she took shelter underneath the wing of a small, heavily dented fertilizer scow parked close to the forest instead. Incongruously, it had ' _Liberty II_ ' stencilled on its side.

She laughed bitterly. Liberty! Justice! All those grand, but ultimately empty words (empty enough to be painted even on a _fertilizer scow!_ ), that everyone used to justify their own ends. Everyone who was fighting had some _great_ objective to do it, and the rest didn't give a damn about either.

Even in the darkness, she thought she could see the forest, its massive tree tops vaguely yet distinctly contrasting against the night skies as they swayed in the gales. It smelled like it had at her first visit, earthy, humid, lush; she had relished that smell then and found it pleasant now, despite the fact that it reminded her so much of that day. That day when she had first encountered Kylo Ren, no less than three times in as many hours. In a vision first, the sight of which had scared her out of her wits. In real life next, which had scared her even more. And then in both their minds, as they had struggled for the upper hand, where to her own surprise she had learnt that he was scared almost as much as she had been. Since then, he had never really gone away again, out of her damned head, which was the chief reason for all the discordance between her and her friends, blaming her as they did for something that really, really wasn't her fault. If it was just up to _her_ -

She caught herself getting hung up on that thought, realising with some shock and even more disgust at herself that she already seemed to have got accustomed to it so much that she didn't _want_ to lose it again. And even if he no longer wanted to talk to her – well, she wasn't keen on talking to him either, but the connection between them went beyond mere language. She couldn't remember a time when she had had anybody really close to her, understanding her without the need for actual words; it was a great comfort, even if he _was_ a bloody Sith lord.

She tore herself away from the thought as much as from the sight of the forest and spotting a loose cable on the scow blowing in the wind, by habit she started fixing it. Next, she tightened half a dozen nuts, then climbed onto the wing in order to align the antenna, only to find that the door to the miniscule cockpit wasn't properly closed. Without hesitation – because she had no conscious thought of what she was doing – she opened it and climbed inside, dropped down heavily in the pilot-seat and stared at the controls before her. They were in a much better state than the outside of the ship warranted, and experimentally, she started the engine, which came to life with a soft splutter.

Listening to the rather soothing sound, she reached a decision. The kind of decision for which one needs to be quite drunk in order to make any sense at all.

x X x


	8. Stuck

**VIII. STUCK**

 _I want somebody to share…  
Share my innermost thoughts  
Know my intimate details  
Someone who'll stand by my side  
And give me support  
And in return  
She'll get my support…  
Though my views may be wrong  
They may even be perverted  
She'll hear me out  
And won't easily be converted  
To my way of thinking  
In fact she'll often disagree  
But at the end of it all  
She will understand me_

 _DEPECHE MODE – Somebody_

* * *

 **1.**

The atmosphere on the bridge of the _Supremacy_ was thick enough to be scooped up and sold as pea soup. Every officer present, with the possible exception of General Hux, craved for their shift to end, or find some other pretext of leaving, while they were all more or less glued to their monitors observing a _pretty_ small area on the surface of Takodana, or more exactly, the tiny red dot marking the _Millennium Falcon's_ present whereabouts.

When the Supreme Leader had appeared – not forty seconds after Peavey's communication – Hux had instantly offered to get his fighter prepared for take-off, but the other man had hesitated, staring at the maps in deep concentration.

Sub-Lieutenant Karver wasn't the only one to think that this was due to the great risk everybody ascribed to that ship, that after having declared that no one else but he could be trusted to deal with her, their Supreme Leader was devising some devilishly cunning strategy to take her on (because clearly, simply carpet bombing the whole area wasn't an option, or someone would have suggested it by now). But he had observed that tiny red dot for several hours by now, his expression alternating between anger, worry and something else – melancholy, Karver would have guessed in anyone else but their Supreme Leader – without giving out any order at all, while General Hux (the only one in the room not fixated on some monitor or other, but closely surveying their Supreme Leader instead) in turn had progressed from bewilderment to frustration to unveiled scorn. It was this open ridicule that caused the chief part of the other officers' uneasiness, but luckily, Kylo Ren seemed immune to it – or maybe he simply hadn't noticed, as Lieutenant Draxo thought.

It was a very young Second Lieutenant from Riosa, still unable to grasp her luck to be serving on the _Supremacy_ , who made the next – and as it turned out, yet more momentous – discovery.

"Sir," she cried excitedly, and having received a colleague's warning elbow in her ribs, quickly added, " _Supreme Leader_ , sir, a small fertilizer scow is just taking off from there."

The other officers rolled their eyes, but not Kylo Ren. He straightened up and strode over to her to immerse himself in her display screen for a change.

"It's a WCX-15, reported stolen three weeks ago on Rattatak," the young Riosan went on, far too thrilled to sense the danger, or notice Captain Peavey's almost frantic signals to shut up.

The fertilizer scow flew somewhat erratically, as if piloted by a drunk, or someone who had never before captained one, then it made one giant leap which propelled it straight into the _Supremacy's_ tractor beam, where it strained and foundered desperately like the proverbial fly in the even more proverbial cobweb.

"Make contact and have them identify themselves," Hux ordered, out of habit more than anything.

The officer in question hesitated and looked to the Supreme Leader for confirmation, but the man seemed oblivious of his surroundings. So they radioed the ship – and got no reply whatsoever.

Usually, an otherwise unidentified ship of such low profile hailing from a hostile point of departure would have been destroyed with prejudice, plain and simple. But neither of the officers could bring themselves to give the command, not while Kylo Ren stared at that scow as if it carried his own grandfather.

He finally snapped out of it. "Make my ship ready –"

"It _is_ ready," Hux could not refrain from remarking, "and has been for hours."

A negligent move of the Supreme Leader's right index finger pulled the General's feet from under him, but otherwise he scarcely showed that he had heard the man. "Release the scow from the tractor beam once I'm airborne."

"But sir –"

"You heard me, didn't you? This was no friendly request, it was an _order_ , General."

"Yes, Supreme Leader."

"And the _Millennium Falcon_?" Captain Peavey dared to ask – always better to make sure.

"Forget about her. She no longer matters."

Always better to make really, _really_ sure. "So we're not to – bomb her? Supreme Leader, sir?"

He sighed. "No, Captain, the old directive stands as it did before – you shall not harm her in any small way. She belonged to my father, now she is _mine_. Is that clear?"

"In that case – shall we – uh – _retrieve_ her for you?"

"Not now. There'll be enough time for that later."

And off he went, with long, purposeful strides and a look of hardly concealed anger. For once though, Hux was certain that this anger had nothing to do with him.

Kylo hurried down to his TIE fighter. Oh that silly, _silly_ woman! Did she actually _count_ on him to save her?! Was all this some sort of joke in her eyes?!

x X x

 **2.**

 _I don't_ want _to talk to her, Matthew. I doubt she wants to talk to me. But still … we will talk._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

'Are you crazy?!'

She saw him right before her, eyes blazing in a white face with cheeks that were ruddy with anger. And while an hour ago, she had still bemoaned the fact that he wouldn't talk to her anymore, she now found she really wasn't in the mood to be ranted at. 'I'm not telling you again. Get out of my head!'

'No can do. All the usual channels of communication are monitored and played back to the _Supremacy_ and that won't do.'

'Believe it or not, but I don't want to communicate with you in any way.'

'Why the hell did you come here!'

'I didn't _come here_ , your freaking tractor beam caught me!'

'Because you were coming too damned close to the _Supremacy_. It's what they _do_. No, scratch that. Usually, they bomb the hell out of unidentified ships, you have gotten on by sheer dumb luck.'

'Well, I managed to get out of it, so would you _please_ –'

'Managed! Don't make me laugh! I _ordered_ them to release you!'

'How nice! Thank you.'

'How dare you mocking me for _that!_ '

'I wasn't mocking you, I meant it. Thank you.' She tried to give him a little smile, but wasn't sure she succeeded. 'I do appreciate the gesture. Now please get out of my head first and lost next.'

'I don't think so. We need to talk.'

'Which part of _I don't want to talk to you_ didn't you hear, then?'

'How much fuel have you got?'

'None of your business!'

'I beg your pardon.' Despite herself, he somehow managed to force her to cast a glance at the meter.

'Hey! What are you doing!'

'Checking how far you can go, of course.'

'But how can you even –'

'Never mind that now! You're already running low. You always need to make sure you've got enough fuel, don't you know that?'

'A – I've stolen this ship –'

'You did what?!' he cried in disbelief.

'– so don't blame me if it's running low on fuel, blame its former owner, and your stupid tractor beam, and B – how did you do that?'

'You have been to Rattatak?!'

'What?!'

'That ship was stolen on Rattatak –'

'Well, then I stole it from a thief, because _I_ stole it on Takodana.'

'For someone claiming to be on the light side, you have a shockingly nonchalant stance on crime.'

'I'm not just claiming –' She caught herself. 'How did you – how can you see what I'm seeing?!'

'By means of the Force, of course.'

'But _how_ –'

'You know what? I'll show it to you. Let's get as far away from the _Supremacy_ as your nearly-empty tank permits –'

'Always the incorrigible optimist, aren't you?'

'Can't you see you need to get away far enough for the _Supremacy_ to lose my signals?'

'And then what!'

'Then I'll return and say I had killed you, and they'll stop looking for you.'

'But… Why? Why are you doing this?'

'I couldn't save my mother, I'll be damned if I can't save you.' And he meant it quite literally.

So literally in fact, that he swung out the missile launchers underneath his starfighter, then slightly accelerated and seemed to crash into her scow. The impact was unexpectedly soft – then she was pushed back in her seat as the force of 8 G hit her. It took her quite a moment to grasp what was happening – he had sort of hooked her scow between his own fighter and its missile launchers and _pushed_ her. There was nothing she could do against it; her craft had nothing on his, but she understood what he was trying to achieve and gave him credit for it.

Why did they all insist on trying to _save_ her? It was Finn's default mode, and apparently also his. Why, even Poe on occasion… It really got on her nerves. Still… While deep down she never _really_ doubted that the man styling himself as 'Kylo Ren' wasn't _entirely_ void of good impulses, it was comforting to be rewarded now and then with an actual confirmation of that assessment. Even if it was totally uncalled for.

x X x

 **3.**

"We have lost the Supreme Leader's signal, General," Lieutenant Mitaka reported, inwardly bracing himself for trouble.

His superior merely stared at the screen though. A tick was pulling on the corner of one his eyes, the only movement in an otherwise stony face.

x X x

 **4\. Crash**

'You must know I won't go into hiding,' she said when he had let go of her ship at last. They were somewhere in the middle of _nowhere_.

'I was afraid you'd say that.'

'Well, I won't.'

'Goddammit! You're _just_ as bad as my mother!'

'She fought for what she knew to be right and so do I!'

'No! Like her, you'll be _killed_ for what you _think_ is right!'

'So be it, then!'

He took careful aim and shot a missile at her ship that missed her by mere inches and merely clipped an inch of her aerial. It was a thing of beauty. Damn it, he was a great marksman even if he said it himself.

'What the –'

'Just taking a short cut. You wanna die? Be my guest!'

'You missed me deliberately, didn't you?'

'I was trying to illustrate my point.'

'Ben –'

'I really wish you'd stop calling me that.'

'Why can't you – _you_ , of all people – understand this? You are doing exactly the same. You fight for what you believe in.'

'I am not the one on the brink of extinction though.'

'But if you were, you'd still go on, wouldn't you?'

He gave no answer, which she was inclined to take as a yes.

'So you ought to understand where your mother, or come to that, I, stand. Not to mention that I am a hundred percent convinced that I am right.'

'So am I.'

'No, you're not. You're no more than ninety, max.'

Blast it, this woman was infuriating. He massaged the bridge of his nose with one hand, curled the other into a fist, and came to a decision. He checked the maps first, his instruments next, turned off all automatics and accelerated. He crashed against her with the same precision with which he had shoved her before, hard enough to send her spinning downwards, soft enough not to damage the important parts, and again, and again. She frantically tried to counteract, but her scow didn't have weapons (who in their right mind would steal a ship that wasn't even armed?!) and not much power either. All she could do really was try an emergency landing on the surface of the planet he pushed her towards, unfortunately though she couldn't see any, partly because the surface seemed to consist exclusively of water, partly because they were heading right into a heavy storm. He wasn't done yet. One missile hit her right wing and tore it off, the next ripped off her engines.

'Get out of the cabin and climb onto the other wing! DO IT!'

She was in no mood to do anything he told her and still tried to steer the ship which possessed no more means of control nor protection against the heavy gales.

'You're gonna drown if you stay in there, Rey!'

'Make up your mind, kill me or don't, but stop lecturing me!'

'Shut up and put a mask on!'

Her craft hit the water which built up one _enormous_ and very odd-looking wave. The left wing didn't survive the impact and was lost, too, while the heavy cabin bore itself deep into the water.

"I don't believe this," he groaned, put on the flight-mask, then steered his cherished TIE-fighter right after her. It was of much better manufacture than her rust bucket and didn't lose any vital parts (though it obviously wouldn't fly ever again). Only then he noticed that the stuff he had flown into wasn't really water. Whatever it was, it was much, much more viscose, like syrup, or jam even, and just as impossible to see through. He could locate her easily enough through the Force, much affected by her panic and suspecting that she had _not_ heeded his advice to put on a mask before going under. If that bloody ship even _had_ a mask seemed suddenly doubtful.

What had he done?! Her panic infected him, he couldn't see anything in the gooey substance, but he could sense her, and made use of the emergency mechanism to expel himself out of his ship once he knew he was close.

She was stuck, literally stuck in the cabin which had split open, her lower half as well as her staff still inside, and no, she was wearing _no_ mask. He quickly pressed his mask on her face while he ignited his sword, then took it back and blindly hacked at the twisted metal, trusting he wouldn't accidentally hit her, until she came free. He took a deep breath, removed his mask and pressed it onto her face.

'Breathe, _breathe_ , BREATHE!'

At the same time, he kicked and struggled up, pulling her with him. However, once they had broken through the surface in the middle of the storm which had only slightly abated, he had no time to catch his breath. Out of the blue, the crazy girl tore away and whirled her staff at him, which she had equipped with what looked like two halves of a lightsabre at each end. He managed to dodge the first stroke and barely managed to ignite his sword before the second.

"Have you completely lost your mind now?!"

"You – _bastard!_ "

This was the moment recognition finally hit him.

"Is that – what have you done to my grandfather's lightsabre!" he roared as he parried her.

"I – fixed – it!" she retorted, accompanying each word with a blow. "And it was Luke Skywalker's!"

"It's mine and you stole it!"

"You don't deserve it."

They were separated by a huge wave, but as soon as possible, she took another swing which he could parry just so. Kicking their legs not to go under and hacking away at each other, they soon both were panting. As thunder filled the air, another huge wave lifted him and threw him almost on top of her, which offered him a chance to grab her staff. She clung to it with one hand and used the other to try and wrench off his grip. The thunder died down as if someone had turned off the volume, in another instant, the waves lost their nerve, too.

They both struggled to keep their heads up, gasping for air and eyeing each other suspiciously while the storm around them subsided at astonishing speed. "Are you doing that?" they simultaneously asked each other (and received the answer by inference).

"I really wish you would stop trying to kill me whenever we see each other," he wheezed.

"Kill you! Boy, you do have a nerve!"

"Well, what was that, just now?!"

"What! You crashing my ship and firing at me?"

Their right hands still wrested for the staff, but with less and less strength, or conviction.

"I just tried to force you to land."

" _You_ nearly killed _me!_ "

"And then I saved your bloody life, so can we call it quits?!"

"As soon as I get my strength back, I swear I'll strangle you!"

"Oh, don't worry, that _is_ coming across." He took a deep breath and came to a decision. "I am going to let go now."

"I wish you would!"

"In turn, you're not going to kill me just now."

"Jedi tricks don't work on me anymore."

"I _know_."

x X x

 **5.**

Finn was frantic, and so mad at Poe that he could have throttled him. Rose tried to soothe him by assuring that they _would_ find her, but Finn wasn't even sure that Poe truly tried.

"Of course he does," Rose insisted.

"He thinks she's a bloody security risk!"

"Come on, you were as spooked as anyone by her weird connection to Kylo Ren."

"Because it _is_ spooky! It's _Kylo Ren_ , for goodness' sake! But that's no reason to abandon her!"

"No one's abandoned her, _she_ took off –"

"Because she believed we would abandon her! And now she's out there somewhere – I dare not think what might have happened to her already!"

"That kind of thinking is of no help to anybody."

He stared at her, head-shaking, then stomped off towards the forest, to search at least the fringes once more. Perhaps she hadn't really gone. That scow may have been stolen by _anybody_. She couldn't be really gone, she _couldn't_. Oh bloody hell, it was just like that first time on Takodana!

He vividly recalled his sense of dejected panic at the heart-stopping sight of Kylo Ren himself carrying her on board of his Upsilon-class command shuttle, fearing he'd never see her again. He had been a Stormtrooper, he _knew_ Ren and what he was capable of! But then at least, they had known where he was taking her. Heaven knew where she was off to _now!_ Taking on the _Supremacy_ all by herself, possibly!

Rose watched him head for the forest, wondering if she should cry after him, tell him that in all probability, Rey was still carrying her transponder beacon. But perhaps it was better for him to clear his head first.

x X x

 **6\. The Wookiee And The Scorpion**

 _It was like I knew her. Like she was my oldest, dearest friend. The kind of person you can tell anything to, no matter how bad, and they'll still love you, because they know you._

 _BRANT TUCKER – Sandman_

"Think of the Wookiee and the scorpion."

She merely stared at him. Now he had finally lost his mind.

"Don't you know the story of the Wookiee and the scorpion?"

" _What?_ "

"No, of course not. Who should have told you."

"No need to go on harping on and on about me being a poor orphan!"

"I didn't mean to – it wasn't meant as a… Anyway – it goes like this: A scorpion needs to get to the other side of a river, but obviously, he can't swim. So when he chances upon a passing Wookiee, he asks the Wookiee if he will swim over and carry him – the scorpion – on his back. The Wookiee laughs at him and says, 'Why, I'm not stupid. I let you crawl on my back and you'll kill me!' But the scorpion replies, 'No, I won't kill you, I promise.' Of course, the Wookiee doesn't believe a word of it, but the scorpion replies, 'Don't you see? I cannot swim. If I sting you and you die, I'll drown too.' The Wookiee contemplates this, and because Wookiees are basically rather helpful fellows, he agrees at last, and lets the scorpion crawl onto his back, and starts swimming over to the other side. And then – just in the middle of the river – the scorpion whips out his tail and stings the Wookiee. With his last breath, the Wookiee asks, 'Why did you do that? Now we'll both die!' And the scorpion replies, 'I can't help it. It's just in my nature.'"

The boy had lost his marbles, he really had. "And you're telling me this so I won't be surprised when you whip out your sword again and finish me off or what?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I was trying to tell you quite the opposite. _You're_ the scorpion in this, don't you see?"

"Me!"

"We're both going to die, and soon, of sheer bloody exhaustion, if we don't come to some truce and start helping each other out."

"Pull the other one, it has beeps on."

"My point is, I don't want to die. Least like this, drowning in – for want of a better term – honey. If nothing else, you should be able to trust my instinct of self-preservation."

"Self-preservation?! Ha! I've seen you fly."

He laughed. Actually laughed, and quite merrily, too. It was totally out of place and a really weird sight. She couldn't remember to have ever seen him smile before. For some reason, she had to think of her little orange rebel pilot – as always, the thought calmed her. Just to say something, she muttered, "I don't want to die either."

"Excellent! I was getting a bit worried about that."

"Why? Just an hour ago, you were trying to kill me yourself."

" _No_ , I wasn't –" She opened her mouth but he went on, "I honestly _wasn't!_ I only wanted you to land, and this planet seemed like a good place –"

She pointedly gazed around. "An _excellent_ choice!"

"It has oxygen, the right temperature, and isn't populated by any sentient race – no one who could rat you out, that is. I couldn't know about this stuff, could I?"

"A planet with oxygen and the right temperature, but without sentient population – _could_ have given you a hint there must be something wrong with it."

"Yeah, well, I'm not at my best when I'm acting on impulse."

"No kidding!" She shook her head. "So you thought, hey, I'll just crash-land her there?!"

"Basically yes."

"Why did you shoot at me?"

"To disable your craft, of course. And to keep the engine from setting your tanks on fire during the crash."

Put like that, it sounded almost logical. "Why couldn't you just let me fly off!"

"Because you said you wouldn't stop fighting and as long as you keep on fighting, I cannot keep you safe, damn it!"

"Does _this_ look _safe_ to you?!"

"I already said I'm sorry."

"No, as a matter of fact you said no such thing. You never do! Sometimes I can _feel_ you're sorry, but you're just too damned stuck-up to ever allow the actual word passing your lips."

He scowled at her, searching for counterproof in vain, until he finally gave in. "I am sorry," he muttered very quietly and made a vague gesture at their surroundings.

"Good start!"

They stared at each other in silence for a minute or two, on his part sheepishly, on hers both annoyed and bewildered.

"Apology accepted?" he asked eventually.

She made an impatient move with her head. "Yes… And while we're at it and you can't run away, I've got an apology of my own to make to which you _will_ listen if you want it or not –"

He frowned, but she went on, "I never should have tried to exploit our – this – whatever it is that links us. I knew it was wrong even before starting and I _am_ very, very sorry."

"I know," he said, surprising himself as much as her. "It's good to hear you say it though."

"You could have heard me say it much sooner." She put on a little smile. "If you weren't so bloody stubborn to begin with."

This made him smile, too. "So we're good…?"

"Gosh, no."

The smile broadened. "Can we at least agree on a temporary truce though?"

"Oh, alright."

"And can I have my grandfather's sword back?"

She couldn't help it but laugh. "Don't overdo it."

"Okay, we'll leave that one for later. Sooner or later, someone is going to find us. Until then though, we need to survive, wouldn't you agree?"

"It's pretty much self-evident."

"If we both keep on struggling like this, we'll soon be exhausted and, face it, drown. But as long as the sea – if this is a sea – what _is_ this stuff? Anyhow… As long as it's as calm as it is now, we should try to get some strength back. When you just lie on your back, you should be able to float, and perhaps even catch some sleep. I'll keep watch."

"Oh yes, sure!"

"Come on, you could read my mind if you wanted to. See for yourself that I'm serious."

"Snoke could read your mind too, and did, just before you killed him!"

He gave her a very offended look. "And thus saved your bloody life, woman!"

If she hadn't been so tired from all that kicking water (or whatever), she would have had scores to say on that head, but as it was, she merely managed, "That's not the point."

"You know, it is, somehow. You try killing _me_ , every chance you get, and yet you act as if it was the other way round."

This utter distortion of the facts – this blatant disregard for reality – left her speechless. Perhaps taking her stunned silence as tacit agreement, he went on, "All I'm proposing is that we buy ourselves a bit more time."

His eyes never left her, even as he struggled quite a bit to keep afloat – much more than she, in fact, which might have to do with him being much taller and heavier and –

"I should lose that cape if I were you."

"What?"

"The cape! It drags you down."

He hesitated for a second, then fumbled with the cowl and tried to shrug the sodden garment off which stubbornly and quite inextricably clung to his body. She lent him a hand and pulled until the sticky fabric finally got loose.

He eyed her in astonishment. "How come you know this stuff?"

"Uh?"

"You grew up on a desert planet; you've never seen more water than would fit in a bottle. Yet you can swim. You know that a wet cloak will pull one down. How do you know all this?"

If it would have been physically possible for her, she would have shrugged her shoulders. As it was, she needed her increasingly tiring arms to keep her head up. "I don't know. Doesn't everybody?"

"No."

"Maybe I've seen it in your mind…?"

"I am quite sure I didn't think of anything like swimming in the past five years or longer, and certainly not during those brief flashes when you were in my head."

"I really don't know. Perhaps… Perhaps I saw it in a dream."

"Why would you dream of something you'd never ever seen?"

"Oh, I have the strangest dreams, even stranger than yours sometimes." She bit her lip and looked away quickly.

He let it pass, then suddenly focused on something behind her. "What the –"

She swivelled around as quickly as she could under these circumstances, and with a quick and rather clumsy move (under these circumstances), he rendered her unconscious and caught her by the arm just in time before she sunk. It took him a lot of effort to lift her lower body until she finally floated on her back, spread-eagle, all the while panting and cursing.

"You _fool!_ I am just trying to _help_ you. But no, no, little Miss Sunnyside, who's always so _good_ and _gracious_ and _gullible_ like an inebriated _Ewok_ , won't trust me and if her bloody life depended on it! Which it does! Silly cow! And I bet you anything she'll act all offended, once she comes to it…"

But he had no breath to continue his tirade for long, and taking extra care for her face to remain over the surface, he tried several positions to make himself as light as he could, too. Any position though which would truly have alleviated his struggles inevitably meant lessening his grip on the back of her head, and he hadn't argued his point so vehemently just to neglect his promise now. Also he was afraid to fall asleep and drown them both by accident. This was not the way he would die. In combat, yes. In battle, alright. But not like this.

He contemplated her face simply because it was directly under his nose. She had a nice face. Pretty, possibly. But to tell the truth, he didn't have much to judge her by. In Luke's Jedi academy, they'd all been boys for some reason. Not to mention the time after that, with the Knights of Ren (who fortunately hadn't yet discovered their hunger for women back then) and in the First Order. There probably were some women there – but who could tell underneath the armour (it had taken him months before noticing Captain Phasma wasn't a man). Who cared, more like.

What was really strange about her face was that it seemed somewhat familiar, despite the undeniable fact that he'd never seen her before that day in the forests of Takodana. Even then, for a split second he had thought he had recognised her. He tried to trace the source of that familiarity – was it in the shape of her mouth? The arch of her brows? The curve of her nose? Something about her cheeks? Or chin? They all seemed somewhat familiar but he couldn't place them.

When Rey awoke, the twin suns stood low on the horizon, painting the sea around them in a blindingly intense shade of gold. For a minute, she didn't know where she was or what had happened, and didn't ask herself either. Her body felt tired, but otherwise quite comfortable, warm, lying on the softest water mattress imaginable, the back of her head tingled softly, and her mind just went along with that woolly cosiness.

'Now please don't get another fit,' a voice whispered in her head, and even that did scarcely register for a second or two until she gave a terrible start and all the warm cosiness was instantly replaced by startled recollection, and the feeling of drowning in syrup.

"Don't – oh for goodness' sake –"

It took her a minute to get her bearings and splashingly regain a pose that wouldn't instantly draw her downwards, time well spent abusing the man who had clearly stunned her and didn't even bother to deny it.

"Oh, will you get over yourself. I did you a favour."

"Favour!" she screeched.

"Favour indeed. Also you might want to note that you slept for hours, and not once did I drown you."

x X x

 **7.**

"If we're much slower, we'll go backwards," Finn nagged, squeezing the transponder beacon in his hands.

"Calm down, for heaven's sake. She's stationary for ages now, apparently she's not going anywhere."

It was exactly the wrong thing to say to Finn, who was half convinced that Rey was dead (the other half feared she had lost the beacon), and didn't miss any opportunity to inform Poe that it was all _his_ fault. "She may be injured and in need of our help!" he wailed now.

"I appreciate that, but the hyperdrive still doesn't really work, and we're of no help to anybody if it explodes!"

"But –"

"Please, Rose, take him out of here before I kill him."

x X x

 **8.**

 _My words are nearly always an offense.  
I don't know how to speak of anything  
So as to please you. But I might be taught  
I should suppose. I can't say I see how._

 _ROBERT FROST – Home Burial_

O-12 Gamma (that was what this planet was called, if he remembered the map correctly) was small and heavily rotating, so that night and day alternated at a much quicker pace than either of them was used to and made it hard to gauge how much time had passed since they had stranded (ha!) in the middle of this ocean. Too bloody long, at any rate. Rey had suggested they should try to swim _somewhere_ at least, but since every movement in the sticky substance sapped their waning strength and with not a faint clue in which direction they ought to turn ( _if_ there was any ever so small island anywhere to begin with, it wasn't visible on the horizons), she had conceded his point that they should rather stay close to the sunken ships, as these might be located by their hopefully soon arriving rescuers.

When it became clear that even by alternating to rest, they wouldn't be able to keep themselves afloat much longer, and crossly thinking how much easier this all would have been if only the obstinate woman had climbed onto her severed wing as he had told her, he was struck by an idea. He stretched out his hand and focused on that lost wing until it emerged from the depths with a syrupy plop. Now they at least had some kind of life raft.

Still, the two suns burnt down at them without mercy, which prompted him to weakly quip that the light side was glaringly overrated.

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. "Don't tell _me_. I know all about too much light."

"Move over."

"Huh?"

"Move over, you can at least sit in my shadow."

She cast him a mocking grin. "Seeing your lily-white complexion and given that you've lived the past ten years inside a mask while I am quite used to the sun, I'd rather say you should sit in _my_ shadow."

"What, all ten square inches of it?"

"What?"

"You don't cast much of a shadow."

"Well, then you've got to lie down, haven't you? I'm serious, lie down. Otherwise you'll get a sunstroke."

She could see him contemplating his chances and realising she was right; they both carefully shuffled so he could lie down with his head in the – admittedly small – shade cast by her upper body.

"Tell me about Jakku," he said, eyes half-closed.

"It's a desert planet in the system of –"

"I know all that. I meant about your life there."

There was nothing else to do, so she told him, at first a bit fractiously and sticking to the basic facts, the scavenging, her home inside the discarded AT-AT walker, but going on from there, the tale got more personal until she told him even of her little rebel pilot-doll. Amazingly, he smiled at that, a genuine smile and she needn't even ask to know that there was no mockery, no condescension in it. Even more amazing was the smile in itself, which transformed his entire face. Usually so sullen, on occasion supercilious or sincere, but always brooding and saturnine, it was suddenly alive with animation and good cheer, playfulness even. These were wiped off instantly though when she asked the same of him, asked him about his previous life.

"What is it?" she asked with a frown.

"Nothing." He quickly sat up and almost upset the raft.

"Rubbish. Tell me."

"Tell you about my life!" he cried in a thunderous voice that took her aback. "What – so you can judge me the better?"

"What? No, I –"

"So you can tell yourself, look at him, what a nice life he had, his parents famous General Leia Organa and Han Bloody Solo, and training to be a Jedi knight with freakin' Luke Skywalker and _what_ did he make of all the privilege _he_ had!"

"No!"

They glared at each other over the short distance between them. She was struck by his blazing eyes, could feel that he was genuinely furious as well as hurt. He looked away first, breaking the spell.

"No, I did not mean anything like that," she said quietly, wondering why such a simple question upset him so.

"I know," he replied, still averting his eyes. "But I feel stupid to talk about my parents, with you not having any."

"Well, if you'd rather not – that's fine. I just… Tell me about something else then."

"There is nothing else, is there?"

"Come on. You're the _Supreme Leader_. There must be tons of stories to tell. Sycophant officers, cantina gossip…"

He sniggered. "You think people tell gossip to me of all people? They're scared enough as it is that I could read their minds. As for sycophant officers – most of them are barely civil, and that only because I can choke them at twenty feet."

"Maybe they'd be more civil if you stopped doing that."

"They'd put me in the incinerator if I stopped doing that."

"But you're their _Supreme Leader_."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Have you actually met General Hux? No? Well, I'll have you know that I'm never more than one step ahead of an actual mutiny."

"That's what you get for casting in your lot with these people."

"Oh no, this is _personal_. Hux was devoted to Snoke, it's just me he can't stand."

"Ever wondered why?"

"Oh ha ha."

"No, I meant it. He wasn't repelled by _Snoke_. So what does he see in you that's so different?"

"He worshipped Snoke for founding the First Order, and being an actual Admiral in fact. He's a soldier through and through, and not a bad officer. Not bad at all. Terribly competent, in fact. Brilliant military mind and all that. But if it was up to Hux, the First Order would be a military operation and nothing else. He doesn't trust the Force because he hasn't got it, doesn't understand it and thinks it should be illegal. So you can make an educated guess what he thinks of someone like me."

"Someone like you?" she echoed.

"A freak. He calls the Force 'sorcery' because he hasn't got a clue."

Boy, did she know what he meant or what! "You're not a freak," she said angrily, astonished to feel such sadness in him – to her, her friends' bewilderment about her powers was a matter of anger, not aching, "and neither am I."

He cast her a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

"So – you reckon they might in fact not turn every stone in the galaxy to find you…?"

"I'd say that's rather unlikely, yes. And if they do, they'll bomb us right out of the water."

She looked around. "So – all this… We're waiting for…"

"Your friends, of course. They'll come for you."

A bouquet of recollections of their reactions to her powers, which kind of echoed his description of General Hux's, popped up in her head unbidden. "Well, let's hope for that…"

"They'll come. I _know_ their kind."

x X x

 **9.**

"Still no sign of him, General."

Hux put on his most concerned face. "Keep on searching, Lieutenant. He must be _somewhere_."

But the odds were a hundred to one that _this_ was the right quadrant, which the officer in question was only too well aware of. When he initially had tried to voice his doubts though, the General had reacted as if he had suggested a mutiny, so he now kept his counsel to himself.

Later that day, while taking their customary after-work drink together, Phasma attempted to put him on his guard. "Don't gloat too early, Hux. He may yet return."

"Granted. But every day, the chances are getting slimmer. Also life on board is _so_ much easier when he isn't around."

"No offence, but this is wishful thinking. He's not missing for two whole days yet, and he _is_ after all Kylo Ren. According to you, he even managed to finish off Snoke."

Hux baulked at that irreverent mention. "But not the girl – if it wasn't her killing the Supreme Leader in the first place."

"I thought you believed that to be impossible."

"Ye-es," he admitted grudgingly. "Have you actually seen her? She's but a slip of a girl."

"What's that got to do with it, if she is strong with the Force?"

He made an impatient gesture. "At any rate, Ren didn't manage to vanquish her."

"We already knew he's not invincible – big deal."

"But don't you see? It was her on that scow, I bet you anything. The only person of whom we know for a fact that he can't beat her."

Phasma eyed his glowing cheeks and wondered if he really was so naïve, or just so blinded by his desire to step into Ren's shoes. "We _don't_ know that for a fact, old boy. Maybe it's not so much a question of 'can't' but 'won't'. Did it never occur to you that Ren might simply have allowed her to flee that night?"

Hux frowned. "What would he do that for?"

She deflated, flattened by so much thickness in this otherwise so sharp man. " _Please_ tell me that you are aware, at least in theory, that there _are_ some men out there who'd do pretty much anything for a pretty girl. _Please_."

He opened his mouth but paused, finally to say, "Naaah. You don't think…"

"Why not? She's pretty enough."

"You reckon?"

"Oh for goodness' sake. Yes. She _is_ pretty. Take a poll among my boys if you don't believe me."

He looked quite affronted. "So what you're saying is that _our Supreme Leader_ is just chasing after a piece of skirt?! A known member of the _Resistance_ , even?!"

"Oh, _now_ he's _our Supreme Leader_ again?"

He hadn't even heard her, boggling at the idea that the head of the First Order could just have taken a couple of days off for some – _fun_. And with such a person, too! It seemed more treacherous than even the likely murder of Supreme Leader Snoke. Murdering one's superior was at least something Hux could wrap his mind around. But neglecting one's duties for simple pleasure?!

"You mean – he may at this very moment be – _oh well_ – and return after a week or so?!"

"Something like that, yeah. And how are you going to explain the utter futility of your search when he does?"

"But we _are_ searching."

With a slightly broken detector in the most likely quadrant though, but this little secret Hux hadn't shared with anyone, not even the closest thing he had for a friend.

x X x

 **10.**

 _Women always figure out the truth. Always._

 _HAN SOLO – The Force Awakens_

She had convinced him to lie back down after all, and asked so many questions out of genuine interest (which he could feel) he eventually told her about his ongoing feud with Hux, which dated back to the very first day they had met. Before Kylo had joined Snoke, young Armitage Hux had been the First Order's whizz kid and not taken the new competition well – and to be quite honest, Kylo hadn't been above that kind of pettiness either. He told her how Hux had orchestrated the attack on Leia behind his back, about his secret repair of the _Supremacy_ , which in turn had given Kylo the idea with the alleged mask of Darth Vader, how he had made Hux believe he was hearing the screams of his victims (Rey didn't know whether she should laugh out loud or be horrified), which he felt utterly justified to do after that stunt with the projection of Snoke's voice during his sleep –

"So that's what it was!" Rey cried involuntarily and could feel her cheeks turning crimson. Oh well. Time to confess after all. So she told him in turn of how she had broken into his sleep, not once but _twice_ , and braced herself for his outrage, but it didn't come.

He wasn't angry, or scandalised, just a little mystified. "But – why?"

"You were so sad, I thought I could comfort you and then you were so angry with me, and I wanted to apologise," she said, still on the defensive.

"And the rest of the time, you just wanted to kill me?"

"What?!"

"Usually when I dream of you, you're killing me."

Curiously, it was Rey who was truly scandalised now. "That's not my fault! I did it only those two times!"

"Okay –"

"I didn't try to kill you!"

"I recall at least four times when you did exactly that, and for real," he said calmly, still lying down, eyes closed. For some reason, his calmness vexed her even more.

"I let you live at least two times!"

"I do appreciate that –"

"Oh do you! _You_ almost shot us down!"

Now he opened his eyes wide, and quite angrily. " _I_ surely did no such thing! As a matter of fact, I ordered the _Millennium Falcon_ to be left alone –"

"And the other day! I could _feel_ you nearly murdered someone!"

He frowned and picked up on her memory. "That guy _was_ the commander who nearly shot you down, you silly cow!"

"And for that you wanted to kill him?!"

He was stumped by her outrage. "In part, yes. Chiefly though he commanded the attack on my mother – and before you keep on shooting your mouth off, I did _not_ kill him."

She had opened her mouth for another heated reply, but between her recollection of the pain and fury she had felt in him, and his explanation, she thought she saw his point a little too clearly; it wasn't very different from her own feelings that night on Starkiller Base after she had seen him kill Han Solo.

"What did you do to him?" she asked instead.

"I made him feel the last seconds of the people he'd killed. Their pain, their fear."

"You can do that?!" It sounded both amazed and horrified.

"In certain cases. But I don't suppose you want to learn it anyway."

"I don't understand you. I really don't."

He sighed and closed his eyes again. "You don't have to."

"No, I do! You see, I get a share of it all – when you're sad, I get to feel it too. When you feel like murdering someone, _I_ get so cross as well I start a row for the sheer sake of it."

"I'm sorry," he said and she could tell he really meant it.

"If I could at least _understand_ … That thing with your grandfather, for example. I don't get it."

"My grandfather was Darth Vader. What's not to get?"

"Why do you idolise him so?"

He smirked. " _My grandfather was Darth Vader._ Doesn't that answer the question?"

"No, it bloody doesn't, you _know_ it doesn't. You say it as if he was some mono- mono-"

"Monolithic?"

That was _exactly_ the word she had been looking for, and while it wasn't that astonishing that he knew it was (he might have picked it up from her mind), she was somewhat distracted by coming up with it in the first place. She was certain never to have heard that term before.

She frowned and went on, "Yes, that. I mean, he was Darth Vader – but he was also a Jedi, and he killed the Emperor, and – he isn't that one evil entity whose mission in life you can simply complete, is he?"

He didn't answer, his eyes still closed, and for a minute she wondered if he had fallen asleep, or simply meant to ignore her. But no, she could feel the thoughts rushing through his head, until he said very quietly, "You are right."

He made a face, wetted his lips, bit them, then went on slowly, "I am not sure what to tell you. For years I thought his spirit was instructing me in the ways of the Force – yeah, don't say it, I _know_ how stupid that was – so presently I don't find it all that easy to separate in my head what my grandfather really was, and what Snoke merely wanted me to believe."

She was taken aback by the implication, the sheer idea of somehow making up and impersonating a ghost in order to manipulate one's apprentice seemed so utterly despicable as well as absurd. She didn't know what to say, but realised that she didn't need to say anything, to the contrary – he appeared to put all this together for the first time, let him do so in his own good time.

"I didn't know he was my mother's real father," he continued after a few minutes, eyes still closed, "until I was sixteen, so I never gave him any thought at all until then. He was just some historical figure from the past. Then some senator or other wanted to tarnish my mother's name and made it known, and some older kid in school who had always hated me – he was the one who gleefully told me all about it. I remember how he _relished_ my dismay, but still I didn't believe it. Until my uncle confirmed it, and told me about that day on Death Star II, his fight with Vader, how he had won the upper hand until the Emperor invited him to take his father's place, how he refused and got almost electrocuted until Vader killed the Emperor and perished from his injuries. I – I had no reason to doubt that version, until…"

He shook his head and opened his eyes wide, finding her looking down on him with a look of kindness. The vulnerability of his pose in combination with what he was telling her made him uncomfortable, so he sat up.

"And then I began to doubt after all. I… After all the lies my parents as well as my uncle had told me – was this finally the truth, or just another falsehood? Because it sounds weird, doesn't it? After dedicating his life to the Emperor and his cause, and just having fought as his champion, not five minutes ago, why would he suddenly make such a turn?"

Rey thought of that day a month ago when a very similar scene had taken place and Supreme Leader Snoke's greatest champion had turned against his master.

He appeared to see the thought in her mind and smiled a little. "Yeah, I guess… And you see, that's the crucial point, in a way. Out of all my family, I feel closest to my grandfather even though I never met him. I am nothing like my parents, but with him – there is a kind of kinship. My parents must have seen it, too, or why would they have lied to me all that time? Because they didn't trust me with that knowledge. Oh well, who am I kidding, they didn't trust me full stop. They were scared of me. Of Darth Vader's grandson… And later… Well, all the stuff that came later was in all probability another gigantic lie, but I believed it all the same. How my grandfather's whole reason for being was the Empire, how Luke could only beat him because he allowed himself a moment of weakness, and how it was my destiny to finish what he had started..."

They were both silent for a while, until Rey asked, "Is that… Look, I don't want to annoy you. And if you really don't want to talk about them… But is this the reason why you broke with your parents?"

"What about them," he muttered, back at his usual defensive but not actually angry. She took some heart.

"I _know_ you cared for them."

He faltered, then shrugged. "I did."

"So what happened that made you so – so – disaffected?"

He looked back at her in genuine confusion, a rush of memories running through his mind that she could see fractions of before he dismissed them for an answer. She saw Han Solo carrying a toddler on his shoulders, both grinning wide, as well as Han Solo staring at the same child in unveiled horror; she saw Leia severely scolding the bawling boy, Leia enfolding the boy in her arms, Leia gazing at him with both terror and love. She saw the boy staring at a closed door, behind which his parents were talking about him, in alarmed tones, as if he was some kind of freak; she could see the boy, a little older now, clad in light brown robes with a backpack much too large for him, as he was led away by Luke Skywalker while his other hand clang to his mother. His eyes were large and brimming with tears as he tried to hold on, shaking his head and mouthing 'no, no, no' until his backpack burst with the force of a small bomb. Interspersed with it all were countless tearful partings, invariably featuring a distraught little boy and either his smirking father or his concerned mother leaving, with C-3PO standing beside him holding him back from running after them.

He shook his head as if irked by a fly. "I have loved my parents," he said very quietly. "It was my greatest weakness."

"But – that's not weakness!"

He gave her a compassionate look. "Isn't it? Look at yourself. How lonely were you, how desperate, but still you lingered on that godforsaken planet only to wait for yours. You buried what you knew, that they had sold you into slavery to that ghastly creature, only so you wouldn't have to give up your hope, your love for them."

"That's different."

"Didn't Skywalker teach you that lesson? You have got to train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose – old Jedi wisdom, by the way. And I… I dreaded losing my parents." He gave a short, barking laugh. "In that respect, both my old masters had a lot in common. Excise weakness, excise feeling, everything that's holding you back. Cut it out, it's dead weight."

She gazed back at him in total lack of comprehension. On the one hand, he seemed to mock that ridiculous tenet, but on the other he had internalised it to some degree, hadn't he? 'Let the past die. Kill it if you have to. That's the only way to become who you were born to be.' This wasn't a far cry away from 'Let go everything you fear to lose, cut out everything that's holding you back'.

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

He shrugged and looked away. "I honestly can't say. I'm much averse to believe anything either Skywalker or Snoke ever told me, but – they might have been right in this one instance."

" _Rubbish!_ "

He raised his brows resignedly and shrugged once again.

x X x

 **11.**

 _He'd found that even the people whose job of work was, so to speak, the Universe, didn't really believe in it and were actually quite proud of not knowing what it really was or even if it could theoretically exist._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT/NEIL GAIMAN – Good Omens_

"But it's almost three days now," Udu-u said plaintively.

Nath, Snaps and Bixby nodded, equally affected. Neither of them had ever given much of a damn (or _any_ damn, come to that) about politics, or who was actually in charge of the whole bloody thing. To them it had never made a difference. But they _liked_ Kylo Ren. He was the first – the _only_ one who had ever bothered to find out what they were doing. Due to his orders, they had all been transferred to the _Supremacy_ , the greatest ship the galaxy had ever seen. To hear that he had gone missing ('awol' Bixby had called it, only to learn – after using that term for ages – that it didn't mean what he had thought it did) had hit them hard.

"Why can't they localise his personal identifier?"

"Because those're basically supposed to open doors. They only work on the ships and in their close vicinity. Fly off further than, I don't know, a thousand miles, and you're off the grid. Much less possibly," Bixby explained, not for the first time. Udu-u was a wizard with a motherboard but didn't understand the first thing about actual space.

"What about the computation of his possible navigational routes?"

"I'd guess they thought of so much themselves.

"Or localise the TIE-fighter? That ought to be possible!"

"Clearly it isn't, or they'd have found it by now, wouldn't they?"

Bixby narrowed his eyes and fingered a particular nasty zit on his jaw. "Because the guys from the Navigational Department are in charge of the search. They're so dense, they couldn't locate their own arses while sitting on them."

(The enmity between the Communications Department and the Navigational Department ran deep, at least as far as the Communications Department was concerned. The much bigger, much better funded and much more respected Navigational Department on the other hand had only a very vague notion that their bitter enemies even existed.)

Udu-u sadly stared at his Knights of Ren poster, his most prized possession since Kylo Ren himself had signed it. He remembered that first meeting with all the fervour of a teenage boy (which he was) meeting his favourite rock star (which Kylo Ren embodied for him, just without the singing – but then, Udu-u had a tin ear), and not only _meeting_ him, but actually being _possessed_ by the great man! (Nath had tried to explain to him that 'possession' didn't come into it, but they had all long given up on seriously trying to correct his mistaken fancies.)

As he recapitulated that blessed experience with which he would one day bore his grandchildren to death, he had an idea though. A _great_ idea. And who knew, it might even work!

He tore his gaze off and started hacking away at his keyboard.

x X x

 **12.**

 _Many of the truths that we cling to depend on our point of view._

 _OBI-WAN KENOBI – The Return of the Jedi_

"You have got to be the single most annoying person I have ever met – and that's saying something!" he cried, in exasperation and enjoyment in almost equal measures. He couldn't even remember what had started the argument, but they had been at it for hours and kept it going out of sheer pig-headedness. And because there was nothing else to do. And perversely, to a certain degree – at least on his part – for the fun of arguing with such a spirited opponent.

"Right back at ya!"

"Look – you don't even know what you're talking about."

"Whereas you're Mr. Know-It-All, aren't you."

"At least I know what a Sith is –"

"Takes one to know one."

"How often do I have to repeat this until you get it? I'm _not_ a Sith."

"Well, what _are_ you then? Certainly not a Jedi."

"Certainly not, after all I'm not stupid –" She opened her mouth for a retort but he was quicker. "No, for once you _will_ hear me out. This conversation is going nowhere –"

"Finally something we can agree on."

"Can't you see that both the Jedi and the Sith got it wrong?! It's silly to limit oneself to just one part of the Force if you can have both."

"Oh yeah, right, that's _just_ like you."

He made a face. "Are you going to follow that up with an actual argument, or am I just supposed to say 'yes'?"

"You are only trying to justify yourself for using the Dark side –"

"I don't need to justify using the Dark side, and _you_ better stop pontificating, dear. What do you think allowed you to beat me on Starkiller Base, eh?"

Her eyes flashed up like a lightsabre igniting. "I wouldn't even know how to access the Dark side –"

"Oh no, you're just a natural."

"Don't you dare –"

"Accessing the Dark side is no arcane science; anyone strong with the Force can do it, and you _are_ doing it all the time, little Miss Sunnyside, only you prefer to pretend you didn't know it. That night on Starkiller Base, you tapped your hatred for me, your rage over –" He passed his hand over his face. "Over me beating your little deserter friend. It made you strong and gave you powers you hadn't dreamt of before. And before you get all hot and bothered – that's all there is to it. The Dark side enables you to transform your emotions into power, and I really don't see why you're making such a fuss about it."

Rey was stumped, wondering if he was lying (probably not, he really was no liar), or just hair-splitting, or if he might in fact have a valid point. At this juncture though, she wasn't willing to concede anything; if he had claimed the sky above them was blue (which it was), she'd have accused him of being colour-blind. So she just raised her chin defiantly and snarled, "Go on and pretend that the Sith were the same like the Jedi –"

"That is _not_ what I said –"

"But you implied it."

"Seriously! What's with all the hero-worship?!"

"That's rich coming from a man who idolises _Darth Vader!_ "

"My grandfather was a great man –"

"Ph! If you really have to emulate one of your forebears – which by the way is _pathetic_ – take your father!"

"Come on, even you must realise my father was a criminal."

"He was a hero!"

"He was a gambler, a smuggler and a petty thief –"

"How _dare_ you! How dare _you_!"

"Yes, me! I know him a bit better than you, wouldn't you say? How long did you know him – for all of three days? But even so, I'd be amazed if he hadn't boasted to you of some of his _glorious_ exploits. How he got two dozen of contraband droids through to Urimar despite the blockade? How he simultaneously outwitted three armed gangs of pirates on Durkteel and made off with all of their loot? No?"

In fact, Rey had heard both stories (and many more), remembered with fondness the proud smile with which Han Solo had told them, and the memory fuelled her furious response. "You dare talking of crime! _You_ , a bloody murderer!"

"I'm not a murderer."

She goggled at him. Next to the vexation, there was astonishment in his face and even a little outrage, as if she had levelled some ludicrously false accusation at him.

"How would you call a man who heinously kills people?!"

"Heinously? Yes, I did kill people. So did you, if I remember correctly. We're in the middle of a bloody _war_ , in case you haven't noticed, dearie. A war, I might add, which could long have been over if it weren't for your bloody friends."

Again, the absolute sincerity, the flustered innocence of a wrongly accused lamb, the tone of offended righteousness. It took her breath away.

"What about your father? A casualty of war, was he?!"

Suddenly it was fun no more. Not a bit of it. "Don't you –"

"I was _there!_ I _saw_ you! How you tricked him –"

"I didn't trick him!"

"You pretended to give him your rotten sword and he trusted you and you –"

"I pretended nothing! I –"

The memory of those tortured minutes rolled over him like a wave. Strangely though, they also engulfed Rey with the clarity of a high-end hologram transmission – but not because she'd witnessed it all; the thoughts going through her head, the images she saw weren't her own. She heard ghostly voices in the background, Snoke taunting, another deep voice subtly booming, eerie breathing, a whole tapestry of sounds that must have been in his head in that moment because she _had_ been there and heard none of it. – ' _not even_ you _have ever faced such challenge_ ' – ' _fulfil your destiny_ ' – 'are _you the heir to Darth Vader or not_ ' – ' _leave the child behind you and become the man you were born to be_ ' – ' _ridden yourself of your weakness_ ' – ' _he abandoned you_ ' – ' _you're not strong enough_ ' – ' _think of your poor mother, how he deserted both of you!_ ' –

She felt the actual, _physical_ pain he had experienced when facing his father for the first time in almost nine years, the pure rage inextricably entwined with love and tenderness, – ' _too much of your father's heart in you_ ' – the rising fear of his own weakness, the dizzying struggle when his father said 'Come home, we miss you', the desperate urge to simply give in, the heartfelt wish to do just that, go home with his father and see his mother again – ' _Vader was brought down by sentiment, but_ you _can succeed where even he failed_ ' – ' _you've lost him long ago, at least be the agent of your own fate_ ' –, his fading will suddenly overcome by resolution's final onslaught – ' _Do it! DO IT! Ah!_ ' – the equally sudden total silence, followed by disbelief, horror, soul-splitting agony. She could feel how close he had been to breaking down – when Chewbacca's shot had hit him and kicked him back from the edge by forcing him to focus on the bodily pain instead.

She shook herself to get the memories out of her head. Alright, so Han Solo might not be the best example to prove her point. She had one, though.

"What about Tuanul?" she asked, pulling him back to the present as well. "Finn told me of the night he deserted –"

"Ah yes, the deserter! Another _admirable_ friend of yours!"

"You had an entire village slaughtered!"

He frowned. "Tuanul? But they were traitors."

Gaping at him, she could tell that he truly meant it. How was it possible?! She had seen his mind, she knew he wasn't stupid, or unfeeling, or callous – to the contrary. He had sensitivity, a strong sense of justice – but even his kind impulses, such as wanting to protect her, were so adversely executed!

"I _knew_ some of these villagers. They weren't traitors, as you call them. They were just ordinary people. Most of them don't even care who is ruling the galaxy."

"Oh, but _some_ of them did. Who do you think tipped us off? They betrayed their own neighbours without compunction."

"You killed them for helping you?!"

"We killed them for being traitors. As for Lor San Tekka, he was a notorious Jedi-sympathizer and so were his friends."

"What the heck is wrong about being a Jedi-sympathizer?!"

"It's seditious and downright dangerous."

She knew for a fact that she had never before heard the word 'seditious' and was slightly amazed that she knew what it meant now. However, now wasn't the time to ponder. "You are crazy!"

He cast her a scornful grin. "Levelling that kind of remark at your opponent in an argument is just another way of saying that you know you lost it."

"No, it is just my way of saying that you are completely out of your damned mind. The Jedi were an ancient and honourable order of peacekeepers!"

"Good heavens, we've been here before. The Jedi were a bunch of elitist fools rating their _honour_ higher than anything, who'd rather perish and let their enemies win, just so they needn't digress one small step from their sacrosanct _ancient_ traditions –"

The fact that this claim somewhat repeated what Luke Skywalker himself had once told her made it all the worse, so she cried, "That's what you believe?!"

"I don't believe. I _know_."

Mouth agape, she shook her head. "How – what – I can't… What is _wrong_ with you! How can a person be so – so – _warped?!_ I mean – I grew up under the proverbial stone but even _I_ know the difference between good and evil!"

The scornful grin transformed into a look of pity. " _Because_ you grew up under that stone, you don't know any better. But I can teach you. I can –"

"The last thing I need is advice from _you_ of all people about good and evil."

"Yes, yes, I'm a monster and all that. I really thought we were past that stage."

Well, they were. She knew he wasn't a 'monster', she knew the humanity in him, twisted and damaged as it was. But she was in no mood to tell him that. "You allowed yourself to be corrupted by a monster. Now you want to pass on the torch, but you can just spare yourself the effort, because it's not going to work with me."

"If it isn't going to work anyhow, what is it you're so scared of?"

"I'm not scared."

He tilted his head and observed her closely, so she repeated with vigour, "I am not scared of you, or anything you could tell me."

"And that," he said softly, "was a lie."

"No, it wasn't."

"It was. Think about it. Feel inside yourself. You weren't telling the truth."

His gaze was so intense that she looked away to ponder if he might be right after all. She did search her feelings and found that, no indeed, she wasn't afraid of him. Not at all. Even though she surely should be. He unsettled her deeply, but that wasn't 'fear', but probably just the natural reaction to having a psychic bond with someone like him.

And yet… He was right in a way. There _was_ fear. Not of him though. What was it that she had actually said that he had called a lie? 'I'm not scared of you or anything you could tell me.' So if she wasn't scared of _him_ , it must be what he could _say_. Was she truly scared of being seduced by the Dark side? Was she? His allegation that she made use of it already had truly shocked her – but thinking back to that night, she knew what had made her tick, it had been her grief over Han Solo's and Finn's (apparent) death, a thirst for revenge – and she stood by that. If that was the Dark side, she need not be afraid of it. Still, she probed that feeling like probing a sick tooth with one's tongue, but she must have got the wrong tooth, because she was absolutely certain that she'd never go down that path. She knew it with every fibre of her being. So what could be in there that she feared? And then she suddenly knew it, and without thinking, blurted out, "I don't want to see how bad you _really_ are."

They had been silent for an hour, her voice was cracking, and she really gave him a start with that announcement. "What?"

"Your question – what I'm afraid of – I just realised what it is."

It was his turn to stare in silent confusion, bewildered and increasingly upset. Now why was that? Obviously, he wouldn't use the term 'bad', but his commitment to the darkness within him was as complete as it could be. It was the only way for him and the way he was, he knew that, he couldn't fight against himself any longer. And if he occasionally wavered – well, blame his damned genes, but it didn't matter, he had that problem in hand. His parents – the only people who had known how to pull some of his strings – were both dead, and…

He felt her eyes on him, her mind very close to his and would have given anything at this moment to shield himself from both.

"Now you are afraid," she said quietly.

"No. No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Get out of my head!"

He had actually shouted and she shrank back. "You do have a nerve! It's not as if I could help it!"

Instead of an answer, he jumped off the makeshift raft and tried to put more distance between them by making some awkward crawling movements with his arms. It didn't get him far and made him feel very silly. It didn't help in getting her out of his mind either. But that was just the point, wasn't it? She was there, if she wanted it or not – if he wanted it or not – neither of them could help it. And for much of the time they had had that connection – most of the time, really – he had strangely enjoyed it, too. He had found it intriguing, absorbing, oddly comforting even; he had never in his life felt so close to _anyone_ and had been excited by that feeling of being understood. So what had changed? Was he disappointed to hear her profess that she wouldn't follow him? He had known so much before. In a way, that was even a part of the thrill.

'I don't want to see how bad you really are.' These words reverberated through his skull with a horrible echo, but he couldn't make any sense of them. Heaven knew, she had seen him at his worst – so what else was there for her to be afraid of? Or for him, come to it?

'I don't want to see how bad you really are. I don't want to see how bad you _really_ are. I don't _want_ to see how bad you really are. I don't want to see _how_ bad you really are. _I don't want to see how bad you really are._ '

It was already night when it came to him. He wanted that woman to _know_ him, to understand him – he had thought she did, actually. She needn't necessarily _agree_ with him, it was enough if she just _understood_. To think that the closeness between them was an illusion, as implied by her choice of words as much as by her not being _sure_ of him – was beyond insufferable.

He made back the thirty yards or so which he had managed to put between them, swung himself back onto the raft with one lithe move, grabbed her by the shoulders and glared at her while a couple of shooting stars flew over their heads.

She struggled in his grip. "Have you completely lost your mind now?!"

"Look at me! Look into my eyes!"

"I would if it weren't pitch dark, you idiot!"

" _Look!_ "

And he could feel that she did, despite the darkness. The darkness didn't matter. She could see him across galaxies, a bit of bad lighting was no hindrance at all.

"This is all there is, do you hear me? Do you understand?! This is _everything_. I'm not hiding anything from you, I never did!"

"I know!"

"So what the hell are you scared of, then!"

Under any other circumstances she would have replied 'You, in this moment', of course. Being grabbed by what appeared to be a madman in total darkness and shouted at should have scared her, all the more because the rickety wing was too unstable to allow any movement effective enough to knee him. But she was no more scared of him than before – to the contrary. She had tried to shut him out, but she had sensed the turbulence raging in him, could feel the fear inside of him now, despair even, and it touched her to the quick.

"Please, let go off me, Ben," she whispered and he did. "I am not scared of you, do you hear me? I am _not_."

They both kept their focus on the other one's eyes, seeing them as clearly as if illuminated by the two suns.

Faintly, the light of the stars were reflected in his black eyes but Rey felt as if she could actually see much further; she could see the entire universe there, black but interspersed with gleamingly bright galaxies, billions and billions of coruscating suns in intricate spiralling arms.

"This is all there is," he said once more in a broken voice.

"Yes and no –"

"There is nothing else."

"You don't see it, but I can."

He shook his head. "You never give up, do you?"

"No."

"But you must not – I don't want to deceive you and I don't want you to deceive yourself. What – 'light' you call it – what light there is, is… It's only a shadow, and it doesn't mean a thing."

"Listen to yourself. You're not just mixing up your metaphors, you get them wrong completely. How can a shadow be a light, hm?"

"Call it a remnant, then."

"You told me that story of that scorpion and the Wookiee, so let me tell you a story now. Yes? Please. Make yourself comfortable." Without thinking, she put a hand on his arm and was emboldened by more shooting stars as she gently pushed him to settle more comfortably. "It's not even a story, it's more of an exercise. Anyway. Are you comfortable?"

"Not really –"

She smiled. "Well, I know you're quite high-strung, but you need to relax. Close your eyes. Let go. I promise I won't try killing you for once."

That made him chuckle. He even obeyed and closed his eyes.

"Now reach out with your mind," she whispered. "Can you feel the night?"

"Yes…?"

"Now try to feel the day, too."

She needn't ask if he succeeded, she could sense it. Slowly, she guided him through the same experiences she had had that morning on Ahch-To, and he utterly emerged himself in the warmth and the coldness, the light and the darkness, life and death, and most of all –

"Can you feel the balance?"

'Yes…'

" _That_ is the Force. And you are a part of it."

' _Yes_ …'

She felt rather than heard his voice, felt his sense of wonder at this marvel, felt the ecstasy overwhelming him completely. While accompanying his journey in her mind, she was struck though by an epiphany of her own. It was a quite simple realisation, really, but to Rey it came like a revelation – that _balance_ she had wished him to experience needed two opposite parts for its very existence. There could be no warmth without coldness, no day without night. Hitherto, she had equated light with goodness, darkness with evil – but it wasn't like that at all, was it? Light and darkness were not the same like good and evil (anyone living on Jakku underneath those glaring desert skies could have told you the same without making a song and a dance about it).

But her fallacy of reasoning had gone much beyond this mistake. She hadn't only equated light as in daylight with good, she had assigned the same properties to the kind of light – and darkness – within a person. Suddenly, she saw the absurdity of that assumption.

This very evening, she had felt the darkness inside of him drawing on him like a maelstrom, but by its very nature, it had been an object for compassion, not censure. How could she judge him for his sadness, his loneliness, his fear – even his anger? She could – and did – judge him for his deeds, born out of these and over time slowly poison their owner, but not the sentiments in themselves. What people called 'darkness' in – for example – him was no question of good or evil. _Actions_ could be good or evil – _people_ , and their feelings, were not. Like day and night, they just _were_.

So far, she had looked at Ben Solo and regarded that blend of darkness and light within him as a struggle between good and evil. But it wasn't like that, was it? There was much 'darkness' in him, resentment, sadness, fear. _But that was alright_. Because darkness in itself, or fear, or anger, were not the same as evil. Love and hope could make you do horrible things, just like hate and rage – yet nobody considered them bad. _He_ wasn't bad, or evil. He merely suffered from the same error in reasoning.

He thought that surplus of darkness must mean that _he_ was evil and was torn by his inability to go through with it – _because_ he _wasn't_ evil and his soul rebelled against it. Her eyes flew open, her instinct was to tell him _exactly_ that _at once_ – but then she saw him sitting opposite of her, eyes closed, an expression of other-worldly peace on his face. She refrained from disturbing him and suddenly remembered what Luke had told her – 'Leave him alone to figure out who he is.' And just now she was certain that he would.

They both dwelled on their individual realisations until it was too much and they glided from total engrossment into actual sleep.

He had strange but pleasant dreams in that night. He dreamt of a spinebarrel flower, a tiny thing, almost grey for all the dust engulfing it, which grew and grew and grew into a mighty plant of the lushest green, drawing power from the merciless sun bearing down on it and providing cool shade underneath its impressive leaves. He dreamt how he had flown the _Millennium Falcon_ as a child, over his beloved Hanna City, that colossal metropolis with its countless bustling streets and uncounted peoples, all living their individual little lives in almost harmonious coexistence. He saw a little pebble on a mountain side, perilously close to a ledge, from which it dropped eventually. It landed in a snowfield and seemed buried, but then there was movement, a small snowball emerged, rolling further down, and as it gathered momentum, it entrained snow until it became a mighty avalanche which crashed down the mountain side with unstoppable majesty and buried everything in its way, dragging the debris along to further increase its power. He saw the cosmos at large, its uncounted galaxies and abundance of stars and planets, composed of gas or metal or rock at first glance; he saw the energy, the raw, gigantic energy locked up even in the smallest, most inconspicuous things just waiting for that energy to be released with the force of exploding suns.

It were the twin suns that finally woke him up, in exactly the same position in which he had fallen asleep. Opening his eyes, he found her observing him with a bright smile vying with the suns for supremacy.

"Boy, you _do_ have strange dreams," she said.

"You saw them, too?"

"I think we had the same dreams tonight."

"Ah, that explains the snow. You do have a thing for snow, don't you?"

She beamed. "I think it's _marvellous_. What was that city?"

So he told her of Hanna City, that great ugly brute of a city, stinking, over-crowded, far too large to make any sense – but also colourful and wondrous, a palladium of fond memories of happier times.

Rey listened with wide-eyed delight. As a child, she had fantasised about all the worlds out there which she would never come to see, but she had never even dreamt of a place like Hanna City with its sixty million people. If you grew up in Niima Outpost, any city larger than, say, five thousand inhabitants was beyond imagination. And while he was talking, his entire face was once again converted, from the usual sombre countenance to impish buoyancy. Then his expression suddenly changed.

x X x

 **13\. Attack Of The Killer Wasps**

"What the –"

"I'm not falling for the same trick twice, Ben. And I'm not tired, I slept almost as long as you did."

Instead of an answer, he struggled to get to his feet without upsetting the raft and grabbed his lightsabre, his eyes still focused on something behind her. Only when he ignited the sword she realised he wasn't kidding and craned her neck to see what he was looking at.

Whatever it was, it looked horrifying, and it was very, very big, some species she had never seen before, winged, with the wingspan of an X-wing fighter, it had a dozen legs and three gigantic eyes which seemed to be made of countless little eyes, and sharp clasps before its huge mandibles, and was, unaccountably, merrily striped in black and yellow. What was most disconcerting about this apparition though was the enormous sting at the end of its lower body, almost as long as Rey's quarterstaff. And that it was not alone.

"What are they?!"

"Some sort of wasps, I fathom. Always disable their stings first. And take care they don't fall on you when you kill them."

"Obviously!"

"Or on me."

They shared a swift grin before the first monster attacked. He easily swung his sword and cut off its sting, then cut through its body with his backhand. That beast was dead – unfortunately, it had brought two dozen friends and they were capable of learning fast from their fallen comrade's lack of caution. Also, the heavy body's impact made a big wave that shook the raft perilously. Instinctively, they fought back to back, which made it so much harder though to keep the balance as they both hurled out wide to strike their attackers. All of a sudden, the shaking got much less aggravating though, as if he had stopped to move, and while she just _knew_ he wasn't injured, she couldn't help it but cast a swift glance over her shoulder. What she saw took her breath away. He had actually sheathed his sword and merely pointed his bare hands at the fiends. Bolts of blue lighting shot out of his fingertips and zapped the wasps out of the air at a distance.

But she had let herself be distracted, and only too late she noticed the wasp closing in on her. She managed to slice through the sting, but the beast had grabbed her with half a dozen of its many legs, clicking its maws at her face. Then suddenly, it let go and fell into the sea, and she still saw the last remnants of blue lights crackling around the large torso.

"Dark side or not, you gotta show me how to do that," she shouted.

"I will as soon as figuring out how _I_ am doing it! It's never worked before!"

He made short work of most of the others in this way; she killed another two with her staff, so exhilarated by looming victory that she became over-confident and didn't bother to hack off the sting of her last opponent, but simply sliced through its abdomen with an elegant little flick of her staff. The beast's upper half was hurled away from her, the lower half – and with it, the huge sting – was propelled towards her though and grazed her left arm. The pain was instant and numbing. Within seconds she was dazed as if drunken and was about to tumble, she saw (rather than heard) him screaming and grabbing her arm. He sucked on the wound and spit out the venom, then he bit into it with the ferocity of a savage beast, so deep and hard that he ripped out a piece of flesh. The nature of the pain changed, it now felt sharp and poignant, not to mention when he once more ignited his sword and pressed the blade with great care onto the wound. This was when she lost consciousness for a minute.

When she came to, she was flat on her back and he was frantically yelling at her. " _Don't die, please,_ PLEASE DON'T DIE!"

He pressed both hands onto the wound which still hurt like hell, but the bleeding had stopped, and where his hands made contact was a tingling sensation beside the pain that made it almost bearable.

"I don't think I will die just now," she gurgled, still with that sensation of severe inebriation.

"That's my plucky little trooper," he muttered, the shaky jocularity not nearly masking his anxiety. Every now and then, he swiftly let go of her with one hand and scooped up some of the sticky liquid to daub on the injury.

She stared alternately at her arm and his mouth, which was still smeared by blood – her blood. "Really, I'm fine," she croaked at last.

"Well, let's hope you will be, honey – I'm pretty sure it _is_ honey after all, mingled with salt – anyway, honey and salt are both supposed to be antiseptic."

It took them both a while to stomach all this. He insisted she kept lying down as he sat next to her, legs crossed, eyes closed, one hand lightly hovering above her injury and a look of deepest concentration on his face.

"What are you doing?"

"I have absolutely no idea. I hope – and I have not the faintest reason to do so – but I _hope_ that'll make it better somehow."

"Through the Force?"

"I guess."

"Can the Force do that?"

"I honestly don't know."

"It does feel better though. Marginally, but better."

"I am very glad to hear it. I need you fighting fit."

"That's alright. It's only my left arm."

And despite everything, they both laughed a little.

x X x

 **14.**

 _I'm your number one fan. There's nothing to worry about. You're going to be just fine. I will take good care of you. I'm your number one fan._

 _ANNIE WILKES – Misery_

It was no coincidence that in spite of his tender age, Udu-u had been chosen to work on the _Finalizer_ , the second best ship in the fleet. (And he had Kylo Ren himself to thank that he had made it to the best!) He _was_ a bit of a wizard in his field of expertise. It had been no problem at all for him to figure out which modifications Kylo Ren had made him do, once he put his mind to it, which in turn had given him an idea.

They had given Kylo Ren that monitor with which he could send out a silent signal to every communicator on board – communication was by its very nature a two-way-street – and the principle depended on waves. Waves that were tractable, and like light could travel all across the galaxy. It had taken him and his colleagues only a couple of hours to manipulate the process, and by silently and simultaneously calling every single communicator (two hundred twenty five thousand one hundred and eight, to be quite precise) on board of the _Supremacy_ , which had a wingspan of more than sixty miles, they created a signal strong enough to be followed almost with the naked eye, pinpointing the location of Kylo Ren's monitor by means of simple triangulation.

Udu-u was too out of himself for any useful contribution, but Nath had his head on his shoulders tightly screwed on and wanted to make for the command bridge at once. He was held back by Snaps though.

"Hang on a sec, Gov," she urged.

"But –"

"He's been gone for three days, he'll survive another ten minutes. Doesn't it strike you as odd that _no one else_ should have come up with a similar idea?"

"What can I say, Udu-u is a genius!"

"You can bet your bloody arse that every technician on board of the _Supremacy_ is a bit of a bloody genius," she snarled, "even the wankers in the Navigational Department. You needn't even apply there without a degree in astrophysics."

The men all stared at her, clueless at first, but with dawning comprehension. "They never really searched for him, did they?" Bixby said, only because someone had to say it out loud.

"But – but –" Udu-u was at sea. "Why wouldn't they – I mean –"

"The Supreme Leader is dead. Long live the Supreme Leader," Nath said quietly.

Udu-u threw his hands in the air. "But what else can we _do_? We must at least give it a try!"

Snaps threw a significant glance at her colleague's most prized possession.

"What?"

"Come on, don't tell me you hadn't put some kind of trace on their bloody ship when you had the chance. You fancy them almost as much as you fancy Kylo Ren himself."

x X x

 **15\. Call Me By Your Name**

He had insisted she must rest and for once she hadn't argued back; she couldn't have because she was too worn out still, which would have proven his point if she had still doubted it. So, lying down with her eyes closed, his hands still hovering over her injury, she had asked him to tell her more stories like the one with the Wookiee and the scorpion, and after some puzzlement and one or two false starts (no, she did _not_ want to hear how Darth Vader had once saved the Emperor's life from an assassination attempt by the nefarious Heinsnake Cult), he hit the narrative jackpot by recounting some of the stories C-3PO had regaled him with as a child, of the ant and the dove, the panther and the goat, the fox and the grapes, King Knottwright and the mirrors, the eagle wounded by an arrow, the friendship between mouse and crow, with its immortal moral

' _Do the right, the right, the right,  
Till the breath of death,  
Shun the wrong, although the right  
Lead to death of breath._  
 _When that last hour arrives, that none,  
However shrewd, may miss,  
A noble spirit serves his kind,  
And death itself is bliss._'

She was _delighted_ by all of them (even more when they rhymed, or when he imitated the voices like C-3PO had in his renditions then) and he was just as delighted by her delight, but half of them had to do with food – or rather the lack of it – which served as a constant reminder of –

"Aren't you hungry?"

"A little."

"A _little?_ "

"I'm quite used to it. You're hungry?"

"Famished, frankly."

"But you already had a bite or two," she quipped and pointedly looked at her arm, which cracked them both up. Once more Rey was struck how very different his face appeared when he was smiling, or laughing, like now. "If this really is honey as you think – maybe…?"

"I swallowed half a galleon by accident when we came up; it's far too salty and only makes me thirstier, which is even worse."

"Well, then you've just got to think of something else. That's how I used to get by."

He sighed and gave it a try. "Was it Luke who taught you to fight like that?"

"I've learnt how to use a staff all my life. On Jakku you're toast if you can't defend yourself."

"I meant you using a lightsabre, actually."

"Not to offend your sensibilities, but it's not really all that different."

"Oh, well, I don't know about that. The first time we – crossed blades so to speak, you'd never held a sword before, and admittedly, you were astonishingly good –"

"Excuse me, but I beat _you_."

"Well, for a start I was _not_ at the top of my game that night. Anyway, I meant the beginning of the fight."

"Oh, you mean when you were still only toying with me."

"It hardly seemed fair to fight in earnest with a novice. Of course, once you opened yourself up to the Force, you stepped up your game big time…" He tilted his head. "I always meant to ask – would you have killed me?"

"You bet," she said without thinking, but even if she would have contemplated her answer, she would merely have chosen the words a little less tactlessly. She wasn't a liar by nature. What was more, she knew that lying to him was pointless.

He wasn't the least bit affronted though, just curious. "Even when I was on the ground? Injured and defenceless?"

"After you had just –" She bit her lip and swallowed. "Well, not to put too fine a point to it, but that night, I would have killed you with _glee_."

"And now?"

She wrinkled her nose. " _Now_ killing you with glee would seem rather ungrateful, wouldn't it?" Seeing him smile, she added facetiously, "Don't feel too safe though. I may yet resort to cannibalism if no help comes."

That made him laugh out loud. "Thanks for the heads-up."

"What about you?"

"Recent experience shows I have no taste for human flesh, but thank you for offering."

She giggled, too, then stated thoughtfully, "You didn't seriously try to kill me in the forest."

"Believe it or not, but I've never tried to kill you."

"Not even during the attack on Crait?"

"I didn't even know you were there, then. And before you ask, no, I didn't think my mother was there either. I – I thought she had died during the attack on the _Raddus_."

"What would you have done, had you known?"

He contemplated the question very earnestly. That day he had sworn he would kill her – but not even he had believed himself, not even then, not even after she had deserted him so faithlessly. His reason to go after the other remaining members of the Resistance on Crait on the other hand had been two-fold. On the one hand, he had believed his mother to be dead and desired almost above all else to see punished those whom he held responsible – the Resistance, which like its precursor, the Republic, had stolen her away from him before he had even been born. Oh, and Snoke, of course. That day, he had finally seen Snoke for what he really was, a monstrous snake, who had started this war that had cost his mother's life, who had tricked him into believing he had to murder his own father, and had been just about to destroy the only other person he had cared for – and then that person had eventually turned against him, too, and abandoned him like everyone else. That was the other reason, he realised with some astonishment. In his muddled brain, he had somehow thought that she would have stayed if it hadn't been for her bloody friends, that she might come back if they no longer –

He had said none of this out loud, wouldn't have found the right words probably, but Rey could read his face and most of his mind in that moment and gawked at him in utter perplexity.

"Boy, you're right. You're _really_ not at your best when acting on impulse!"

"Well, I have my moments," he weakly joked, overwhelmed by embarrassment. "I still think the idea how to outwit Snoke was rather neat."

She sensed his uncomfortableness and to help him out, tried to change the topic. "Oh, credit where credit is due, it _was_ bloody _brilliant_. Now it's my turn again to be complimented. I _think_ you were trying to congratulate me on my amazing skills with a lightsabre."

His puzzled mien changed to gratitude and proceeded to playfulness in an instant. "But _are_ they really that amazing? _I_ for once believe that _anybody_ would be a great fighter using my grandfather's old sword."

"Tah! _You_ couldn't even summon it out of a heap of snow," she replied in the same facetious vein.

"Yes, yes, add insult to injury, why don't you."

"Don't you actually feel honoured to have that scar made by _Darth Vader's_ own lightsabre?"

"As a matter of fact, I have been complimented more than once on that scar."

"Hoisted by your own petard, isn't that what they say? Like in that story you told me, about the eagle who's shot down with an arrow made of his own feathers."

"Talking of it – can I have it back now, please?"

"Finders, keepers. I'd say you can fight me over it, but then again, you already did and lost, so…"

They giggled merrily.

"I'm sorry it's broken," she said, suddenly earnest. "I tried fixing it, but the crystal was split in two. And I would give it back to you if it really means that much to you, but I don't have any other, so maybe you can wait until I've found –"

"Keep it. You've earned it. Also – it's no longer a lightsabre, it's a quarterstaff, and I don't think I can handle one of those."

She gave him a very heartfelt smile. "Thank you."

He returned the smile just as fully. "You needn't thank me. It's chosen you, not me."

"But it obeyed to you when you called for it, too –"

"Because I wanted to use it to protect you, its true owner."

She tilted her head. "What about later? When we fought over it? It couldn't make up its mind whom to obey, then."

"I reckon in the end, it is only a thing without a real mind of its own. And while you have made _the_ fastest rise in the Force the galaxy may ever have witnessed, I guess that night I was still a bit stronger with it than you, so it levelled out."

She contemplated the explanation and found nothing to quibble, yet she wasn't convinced. She sensed there was more to it than a simple unevenness in their powers, and that, mere thing or not, it did possess a mind of its own.

"Honestly though, I still can't really get over it," he went on. "That night in the forest, you were _good_ – untrained, but good. But scarcely a _week_ later, when battling the Praetorian guards, you suddenly were bloody _spectacular_. How did you make such a leap in such a short time? It took me _years_ of training with my uncle before I could even properly parry."

"I don't know. It wasn't Luke at any rate. We only fought once, and that was not for training purposes."

"Oh?"

"I confronted him about – you know, what you told me about that night when you thought he had tried to murder you –"

"I didn't just _think_ so!"

"I know! He told me."

He was puzzled. "And then you – fought him…?"

"No, I fought him _in order_ for him to talk to me. Before that, he just walked away from me. Also, it wasn't –" She blushed heavily and bit her lip. "Just see for yourself, I don't mind."

She concentrated on the scene, frowning when she got to the moment when, after Luke had disarmed her, she had summoned and ignited the lightsabre in order to strike. He noticed her rueful shame, but couldn't comment as the scene unfolded. He could see it all in his own mind as if he had been there.

He took a deep breath when it was over. "It's not true," he said with hoarse vehemence.

"I don't think he lied. He didn't _really_ want to kill you."

"Trust me, he did! I was _there_ , it wafted off him like – like – it was so strong, it woke me up."

"I'm not saying the impulse wasn't there, but then he – recollected himself."

He knew what she meant to say – about Luke instantly regretting what he had been about to do; he wouldn't have believed a word of it before, but the impulse was too similar to her own when standing over Luke with an ignited lightsabre, and he could feel _her_ instant and genuine remorse. There was yet another revelation in this; he had always been convinced that his uncle had attacked him because he had sensed his power – so now he was awfully puzzled to understand that it had not been so, that Luke had been afraid of him… How old his former master had become in the eight years since that one dreadful night, lying on the ground in frail shame… This was _not_ the Luke Skywalker he remembered, and hated with a passion. But that wasn't even the point.

"It's not true what he said about me. About Snoke. It just isn't true."

"I know."

Not anticipating that response, he had wanted to protest some more and now could only goggle, open-mouthed, seeing that she meant it.

"I think he saw your future, but it was a future already incorporating the effect of what still was to happen, between you and him. It was a – gosh, what does Rose call it – a self-fulfilling prophecy."

He was growing more perplexed by the minute. "Rose…?"

"My friend Rose. She's _wise_."

"You talked to her – about this?" he asked, alarmed.

"No, I can't talk to anyone but you about these things. They don't understand what it's like." Her cheeks coloured. "Anyway, what I meant to say is – well… That night – you know – when we met… After I had been in that cave. I saw your future, and that future was based on something that hadn't happened yet."

Realising the circular reasoning – _all_ future contained stuff that hadn't happened yet; this was not what she meant – she waved her hands in frustration. "I don't know how else to put it, but…"

"You saw me turn against Snoke, which made you come to the _Supremacy_. Whereas I wouldn't have turned against him if you hadn't come," he said quietly. "You based a decision on a fact that only became a fact because you made that decision."

"Yes!" She nodded. " _Exactly_."

"Yes. It was the same for me."

"So you see, I know you only went to Snoke because Luke had turned against you –"

Now he shook his head, sadly. Bitterly. "No. I – I wish it was that easy, but… It wasn't just that. I hate Luke and I would like to blame him for _everything_ , but that wouldn't be true either. When I eventually set out to find Snoke – mind you, that was four years after that night – I _wanted_ to find him. I _wanted_ him to teach me."

"He only manipulated you, he –"

He raised his hand to stop her with the saddest smile she had ever seen. "You really are the most incredibly benevolent person I've ever met, and I – I – it breaks my heart to disappoint you, but I can't deceive you. I mustn't. I _can't_."

"You don't disappoint me –"

"Oh, but I will. You see, I know Snoke manipulated me. But I also know enough of myself to know that he could only do so because I am what I am."

She gazed at him for half a minute, not in repulsion as he had expected, but with sympathy. Then she began to shake her head. " _You_ think you were a monster, not I. I was only angry, but you really believe it."

"I _know_ –"

"No. _No!_ Seriously, no! Think of that story you told me, about the king banning every mirror in his kingdom because he thought mirrors lied, showing him lifting his left hand when he was in fact lifting his right? You are just the other way round. You only believe what the mirror tells you, and rather smash your kingdom. But I can see you _for real_. You are _not_ a monster."

He was torn. He so wanted to believe her, wanted _her_ to believe _in_ _him_ – but he couldn't lie to her, as little as he could vanquish his self-knowledge.

She saw what was going through his head, almost as if it was written down. She saw him thinking of all the fury inside him, fury fed by outrage at the state the galaxy was in, by injustice and disappointment, she saw memories of exploding objects and his parents whispering with each other, she saw the fear, the loathing, the loneliness, the sadness, the shame. In his mind, those featured like black smoke, unmistakably _there_ , but also clouding his vision and keeping him from recognising what they really were – simple facts, not fate.

She gave him a heartfelt smile. "I heard you stopped the Stormtrooper program?"

He was a little thrown by that apparent leap. "Yes?"

"You also banned slavery."

"Yes –"

"You are no monster, Ben Solo. You blunder _a lot_ , I'll give you that, but every now and then you do the right thing for the right reasons. Those aren't the actions of a monster."

He almost smiled. "Maybe we're getting hung up a bit too much on that word."

"Maybe. But I'm still right." He couldn't but laugh, and she went on, gently but insistently, "I _am_. You're just muddled, that's all. It's alright to be angry, or afraid, or really hate someone. It doesn't mean you're bad."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're not seriously trying to tell me I was a good person, are you?"

"No. What I'm trying to tell you is that you could be."

There it was again, that horribly sad smile. "I guess it's too late for that."

"No, it's not. It's never too late. You know what you keep telling me – let the past die. Maybe… Maybe now you can finally let this part of the past die?"

He gazed back at her helplessly. Which part of the past? Their fight on board of the _Supremacy_? His murder of his own father? The night of Luke's betrayal? The ever-repeating cycle of trust, treachery and loss?

He gave a tormented little chuckle. "It may amuse you to hear me admit that I was mistaken there. Kill the past as much as you like, it sticks to you like super glue. You _can't_ kill it. The more you try to kill it, the more it comes back to haunt you."

"You can't kill it, but you can let it die –"

"I won't die though, will it! It is still there, and always will be. You can't turn back the clock, Rey."

"Ben –"

"Case in point. My name isn't Ben anymore."

"No, it is, and it's _my_ point. You can choose to call yourself any darned way you like, but you are _still_ Ben Solo. Damn it! Do you have any idea what I would give to know _my_ real name?!"

"Yes, I think I do. Would it… Does it mean anything to you to hear that your name _is_ Rey? It really is."

"How do you know?"

He replied without hesitation. "It is woven into the fabric of your soul."

How was one supposed to answer _that!_

Seeing her gape at him, he felt the urge to elaborate, "That vision you saw in that cave – it was the truth. _You_ created yourself, your name, all of it. You have no one to thank for what you are but yourself; your parents, whoever they were, were nothing but – midwives. And like midwives they took off as soon as bringing you into this world. They don't matter. Only you matter."

Once again, she could only stare at him, affixed by the compassionate steady gaze of these deep black eyes. But as she stared into them, flustered by his words and their meaning – what _did_ they mean?! – she suddenly realised something else. _His_ name was 'woven into the fabric of his soul', too, and that darned name was _not_ 'Kylo Ren'. It _was_ Ben Solo.

Her mouth was dry. She took a deep breath, swallowed two or three times until she trusted herself to mutter, "You still want to teach me?"

"Yes, of course. If you let me."

"Oh, I'll let you. I let you teach me anything. But in turn – in turn you'll let me teach you."

"Certainly." They held each other's gaze for a minute until a little smile crept back into his face. "You are aware though what a risk you're taking on there, aren't you?"

She grinned. "You mean because you killed your last two teachers?"

He shrugged, still smiling. "The idea suggests itself, doesn't it?"

"Ah, but then neither of us will be the master if we both teach each other."

"True."

"Also, technically you didn't even kill Luke, the projection did."

"Also true. It wasn't for a lack of trying though."

x X x

* * *

 _author's note:_ The poem is from the Panchatantra.

 _additional note:_ hey, if you're reading this and like it, I'd be happy if you leave a review.


	9. Old Friends And Allies

**IX. OLD FRIENDS AND ALLIES**

* * *

 **1\. The Knights of Ren Ride To The Rescue**

When a battered freighter appeared in the skies, she at first thought it was the _Millennium Falcon_ , but even when recognising that it wasn't, her heart swelled with relief – and slightly deflated again when she noticed that his joy wasn't as undiluted as hers. He shielded his eyes from the suns as he gazed up and muttered, "What the hell are _they_ doing here?"

"It's not the First Order though, is it?"

He gave a short, barking laugh. "We should be so lucky. It's the bloody Knights of Ren riding to the rescue."

"But – aren't those your – I wanna say 'friends', but you don't sound too friendly."

"That's right. They are most decidedly _not_ my friends. In fact, they're just another bit of the past that just won't die but become worse and worse –"

"Whose side are they on?"

"None, none whatsoever. But don't get your hopes up. You'll find _me_ a paragon of manners and virtue once you've met _them_." He gave her a long, worried look, then straightened his back and changed his posture. At once, he appeared not only taller and broader, but much more imposing. "Well, I'm not going to sneeze at whoever it is fishing us out of this mess. But – Rey, you've got to be really careful with these guys, you hear me?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know, in a way you're all the same. No one ever believes I'm capable of looking after myself."

"Rey, they are animals, _worse_ than animals –"

"For a start it looks as if they're saving us, doesn't it? We'll see about the rest when it happens."

While the ship slowly came towards them, Rey risked a side glance at her companion, who despite the macho pose had an almost mournful look on his face. "I want you to know – _really know_ – however bad I may be, I am not like _them_."

"You are _not_ bad, Ben Solo."

"I know you believe that."

"I don't believe." She winked at him. "I _know_."

He laughed despite himself. "Well, anyway. This was… Nice, almost."

"It was. Except for the almost drowning. And the killer wasps."

"Yeah."

"But the – the rest… I enjoyed talking to you."

"Me too. Me too."

x X x

 **2\. No Knights In Shining Armour**

The ship hovered close to the surface as they clambered into the open hatch that reminded Rey of the yawning jaws of a Ng'ok and stank just as much. Within the darkness, she could make out a number of hulking figures, at least half a dozen, some of them quite a bit taller and much, much larger than Ben (she would never call him anything else ever again). Once her eyes got used to the sombre light, she thought she even recognised them; she had once seen them in a vision, the remembrance of which made her heart beat harder. The Knights of Ren they might be, but certainly they were no knights in shining armour.

"Ren," a guy with a helmet shaped like a radiator grill said curtly from behind his visor.

"Ren," Ben replied in the same tone and nodded a greeting, and to some others, "Ren. Ren."

Rey wondered if 'Ren' was supposed to be a salutation, some hitherto unknown variant of hello. Were they after all the Knights of Hi there? The thought made her smirk which seemed enough to draw their attention.

"And what a pleasant extra – an actual damsel in distress," another _huge_ man snarled scornfully. Even with his visor (which looked like a giant insect) down, she could see he was looking her up and down as he mocked a bow. "Welcome to our humble abode, m'lady."

Some guys tittered and Rey folded her arms before her chest protectively, even as she put on a smile and was about to say 'Thank you for saving us!'

'Don't speak,' Ben said warningly in her mind. Aloud, he said in a flat voice, "I had not expected to see you here, which isn't to say I wasn't bloody glad."

"We were informed you were in trouble, Ren, so of course, we couldn't resist," another giant sniggered. Rey noticed his right hand was made of metal.

"But then you never could, Zak, could you?" Ben snarled.

"I was slightly disappointed though to see that you actually had us traced. Bit beneath you, isn't it?"

Ben frowned. "I did no such thing. Why would I? I know after all how to find you."

"So how come your goons called for us?"

"I'll ask them that soonest chance I get."

A man with a gasmask cried in fake gaiety, "Let's not forget our manners, Rens. Let's take our guests to the parlour."

More unpleasant laughs and Rey found herself ushered towards a slightly better lit corridor. They clearly tried to do the same with Ben, but either the trick with the squared shoulders was working, or for some other reason they stayed one respectful step clear of him. Somebody behind her grabbed her staff and she whirled round when she heard Ben's voice in her head once more, 'No. Let them think you're just a meek child. Don't make them notice you any more than necessary.'

She would have had a lot to say – with or without actual words – on that score, but the remark from the man in the skull mask still holding her staff gave her pause.

"This was it, Ren, wasn't it, the blade that gave you your nice new scar," he said matter-of-factly, "So I gather _this_ is the lucky fellow."

He reached out and snatched Rey's chin in one big paw. He had hardly touched her though when Ben's voice thundered, "Keep your dirty hands off her!"

She felt a mighty draw of the Force washing over her like a wave and seizing the man, hurling him backwards and crashing him against a wall.

"What the –" Rey could only stare. She was the only one though who found the spectacle weird. Most of the other men giggled.

"Not bad, Ren. I see you still got it."

"A nice piece of ass you've got yourself there, Ren."

"Beaten by a _girl_ , Ren?"

"And such a small one, too!"

"Maybe he wasn't beaten, maybe it was foreplay."

Which appeared to be the most amazing piece of wit these guys had ever heard, for now they guffawed in unison.

'I'll gladly confirm it to you – you're not like them _at all._ '

'Thank you. But I'm afraid this was the polite part.'

x X x

 **3.**

 _The quickest way is sometimes the longest._

 _CZERNOBOG – American Gods_

Checking the signal from the transponder beacon every five minutes and cursing in any language he knew because without the hyperdrive working, they were still days from reaching her, Finn suddenly noticed the signal moving. Then it disappeared for a short while – and reappeared in the Unknown Regions, much, _much_ further away than they could hope to travel in four _months_ at the speed they were going.

He was close to a breakdown. Rose tried to soothe him while Poe threatened to have him locked up in the hull alongside BB-8 (whose panicky beeps had earned him that time-out earlier). Only Chewbacca remained calm. He checked the maps, punched in a couple of coordinates, then started yelling until Poe would finally listen.

"You're sure?" that one asked eventually.

"What is it? What!" Finn cried.

"Shut it, kid," Poe said, observing Chewbacca nod with an almost smug mien.

x X x

 **4\. Fight Fire With Fire**

Lieutenant Mitaka shuffled his feet uneasily. Why was it always he who drew the short straw and had to be the bearer of bad news?!

"General Hux, sir," he began uneasily, "We – it appears we have – lost – the _Millennium Falcon_. It was on the radar in one second, seemingly flying into an intergalactic cruiser which took to hyperspace only seconds later. We – we could locate the cruiser again, but the _Millennium Falcon's_ gone."

Subconsciously, he drew his head in like a tortoise, but his superior did nothing worse than – well, it actually looked as if he was trying not to smile, but surely Mitaka in his anxiety was mistaken there.

"Bad luck," Hux retorted unbelievably and seemed to rub his hands. "As a matter of interest – where exactly did you lose sight of it?"

Mitaka gave the coordinates and saw the General nod, this time clearly in satisfaction. The Lieutenant couldn't know it, but Hux was in fact more than just satisfied – he hadn't been so happy since his promotion to become a general.

Starting in Takodana as it had only hours after that mysterious fertilizer scow, the _Millennium Falcon_ had taken a slow but straight course towards the section in which Kylo Ren was most likely to have got lost, which confirmed Hux's theory that this girl had piloted the scow and that her friends had followed her. And suddenly, they had given up their search and headed for the Unknown Regions. The way he saw it, that could only mean one thing.

In a manner somewhat resembling a Stormtrooper, General Hux had been a member of the First Order since birth, even though the order hadn't yet been founded then. In the thirty-five years since then, he had got on due to a variety of reasons such as nepotism (his father had patronised his only son in every possible meaning of that term), cold ruthlessness, talent, a mind full of stratagems, and not least, contacts all over the galaxy.

It was one of those contacts which had informed him that someone from this very ship had been in touch with the Knights of Ren a short while ago. They could not say how or why, but Hux thought he knew anyway. So the Knights of Ren had set out to find their master, eh? Or should he say _former_ master? He had been too unsettled by their unexplained visit not to try his darndest to find out more, and while this hadn't amounted to much, he was at least certain that there had been a deep rift between them and Kylo Ren.

He smiled a reptilian smile. If you fought fire with fire, you could surely fight one Knight of Ren with twelve of them.

x X x

 **5.**

 _It's astonishing how much trouble one can get oneself into, if one works at it. And astonishing how much trouble one can get oneself out of, if one simply assumes that everything will, somehow or other, work out for the best._

 _DESTRUCTION – Sandman_

The planet the Knights of Ren had chosen as their homeworld did not appear on any maps, which didn't surprise Rey as it made even Jakku appear gay and hospitable. In fact, it seemed something like the polar opposite of Jakku; it was too far away from any sun to shed any light on its black surface, yet it must have been inhabited once because there were dilapidated structures which must have been buildings in the very distant past, constructed from the same black stones. It was cold, and since they had arrived, it had not stopped raining, but not the kind of rain that still delighted Rey, but a cold, heavy, somewhat toxic drizzle.

Clearly, they cared only little for comfort, or she couldn't explain why their lair was only partly roofed and didn't have a full set of walls. Everything was unthinkably dirty and smelled a lot like Unkar Plutt. The only concession to conviviality was half a dozen burning barrels emanating greenish flames and another hue of stench.

While Ben had seen to it to be seated next to Rey on the only small bank that didn't look on the brink of breaking down, the Knights of Ren were slouching on various crates or other surfaces, mainly talking among themselves in desultory consultations which consisted in large parts of grunts, curses and spiteful cackles. The tension was as tangible as the stench. Still half of the men hadn't opened their visors, yet Rey could feel clearly that they mustered both her and Ben constantly with something like hunger as they huddled together in varying groups.

Speaking of hunger – they had actually offered food and drink to their guests, but the drink had been raw spirits, and as for the food – she didn't know what was actually wrong with it, but Ben had urged her not touch it under any circumstances, so she hadn't.

His uneasiness had grown into downright alarm, she sensed it as clearly as if he had spoken it out aloud.

'These guys can't be for real, can they?' she asked scornfully.

'Don't be fooled by their boorish demeanour. They're the most dangerous men you'll ever meet.'

'Ph! We beat Snoke's guards, we can take _them_ on.'

'The Praetorian guards had nothing on the Knights of Ren. Each of them is strong with the Force.'

'But _you're_ their _master_.'

'I was once. A long time ago. I might still beat some of them in single combat, but not in bulk.'

'Well, I'm here, too.'

'And that, I'm afraid, only compounds the problem.'

In this moment, their mental conversation was interrupted by the man called Zak. "We've been talking, Ren. For old time's sake, we'll put you in the way of a crashed TIE-fighter, over in Nephrity Valley. It's not much, but it'll get you back to your shiny new star fleet."

"I appreciate it."

"Right. And we in turn appreciate the generous present you'll be so gracious as to leave for your hosts."

Rey could see how Ben tried to keep his expression carefully blank, but his jaw tightened and his eyes blazed dangerously while she felt a wave of revulsion and horror rolling over him. "Over my dead body!"

"That can easily be arranged."

"You lay one finger on her, Zak, and the next time I beat you, you'll be needing a prosthesis for your head."

Only then, she grasped what they were talking about.

"What, you mean to say you actually care for her?"

"That's entirely beside the point. She stays with _me_."

" _She_ stays at any rate. But we're quite willing to drop your carcass next to hers, if you insist. You know what? We'll make you _watch_ , and _then_ we'll kill you."

"You'd have to beat me first."

The man just scoffed. "You were mighty once, Kylo Ren, I'll give you that. But you've stunted your further growth when becoming Snoke's terrier, while we've soared like eagles to infinity and beyond."

Seriously, where did these guys get their script from?!

'Is there any chance they'll let us go?'

'I don't think so.'

'Then let us finish this here and now, I cannot bear to listen to this twaddle any longer.'

A smile spread on his face. "Say that again, please."

"With pleasure." She got to her feet and seized her staff. "Let's finish this. I can't bear to listen to this utter twaddle a minute longer."

Predictably, this announcement was met with lots of guffaws. The man who had grabbed her staff back on the ship made a move with his hands which levelled a blast of the Force at her – and was so surprised when she didn't even flinch that for the first time, he actually opened his visor. A man in a gasmask close to her who appeared not to have got the memo made an attempt to wrest her staff from her and lost a couple of fingers for his troubles. The Force user tried harder, she could feel it like a strong gust of wind, but that was all.

Ben had got up as well and ignited his sword with a slow, measured movement. He didn't speak, didn't need to, his face said it all. And the first one to attack him met a fate similar to Rey's first opponent.

He had been right though, Rey soon saw. The Praetorian guards had been formidable fighters, but these men fought on another level, their power and techniques infused by the Force, and they weren't above using high-tech weapons either. But if Ben had been impressed before by the quick rise of her fighting skills, she herself now was frankly gobsmacked by her level of prowess. She could sense what move her adversary was going for and was ready to meet them strike for strike or strike for blast, as the case may be. She suddenly knew how to do things she hadn't believed were possible only days ago, and while it was difficult to best another Force-user by means of the Force alone, it puzzled them and neutralised their own attempts.

Ben on the other hand had more difficulties, once the Knights of Ren had decided to fight in earnest. Maybe the more skilled fighters aimed for him because they still didn't take her seriously, at any rate he could keep them at bay just so.

She felt his troubles and cried out to him in her mind, ' _You_ are the heir of _Darth Vader!_ Show this rabble what you're made of!'

Still not looking over because she was busy fighting three opponents at once, she knew she had hit the mark, could sense him squaring his shoulders, tapping a source of power new to him, too. He struck down two enemies with mighty flashes of lightning materialising out of thin air and throwing the others engaging him in a tight melee off their feet. Someone was using a kind of blaster which shot incessant balls of actual fire at machine speed, but he easily met each blast with the blade of his sword. It was such a breathtaking sight that it didn't only arrest Rey's attention as she watched it reflected in her one of her attackers' visor, and she used his distraction to impale his mask with her staff.

With half of their numbers down, the Knights of Ren regrouped. Malo, Blader and Bail went after Rey while Neo, Olly and Zak took on their former master, coming from all sides and striking in concert. Neo and Zak were bad enough, but Olly caused him the greatest difficulties, because he couldn't really bring himself to go in for the kill, and Olly knew it.

"You've gone soft," he sneered.

"Something far worse has happened to you."

"That's what you think, Solo. I just don't happen to be that kid anymore looking up to you and worshipping you."

"I never wanted you to do either. And I don't want to kill you. Walk away now, Olly, and I won't come after you."

The other man laughed throatily. "Stop acting so bloody magnanimous, man! You don't want to kill me? You _can't!_ "

"Perhaps."

"Well, _I_ can kill _you_ and I will, and then I'll take care of your little girlfriend."

Once more during that exchange, he had a clear line to strike and didn't, and suddenly he knew that Olly was right, he _couldn't_ , not only because Zak and Neo were still coming strong from both sides, not because he no longer was the by far superior fighter between them, but because he had _liked_ Olly, felt responsible for him like a younger brother for half their lives.

'Don't let them take you alive, Rey,' shot through his mind, 'A quick death is better than what they'll have in store for you.'

'Don't worry about me. Happy thoughts, remember? Think of Darth Vader.'

He struggled with Olly who had Force-grabbed him by the throat with his free hand while their swords were locked. 'Vader failed, beaten by bloody Luke Skywalker because of bloody sentiment.'

'Vader _didn't_ fail! Even lethally injured he vanquished the Emperor and his Empire with him –' A guy in her back had managed to land a winging blow on her left arm with one of his two blades, pretty much where the wasp had stung her. She cried out in pain (he could feel it as if it was he who had been hit) and swivelled around for retribution. '– _because_ of sentiment!'

And somehow, this did it. He broke free of Olly with a mighty blast of the Force, fuelled not so much by hatred or even fear what would happen to her, but by deepest affection, then he brought down his sword so hard it actually went through the other man like through butter, not only splitting him from head to toe, but tearing open the actual _ground_ where his blade made contact; it yawned in an ever widening gap which swallowed Neo as well as Blader and Dathomir.

Now only Zak and Malo were left and put up such a fierce fight that neither Ben nor Rey even noticed a ship approaching in the black skies.

x X x

 **6.**

When Rey's signal had suddenly transported to the Unknown Regions and Finn had been close to a heart attack, Chewbacca had reacted almost pleased. As it turned out, he knew a huge smuggling operation that operated out of inconspicuous luxury cruisers gallivanting on the fringes of the borders of the known galaxy while secretly importing forbidden herbs. He knew their routes, and he also knew how they could get into one of those cruisers unnoticed, just long enough to hitch a ride at light speed and get off close to the planet where Rey apparently had landed. Finn had never been closer to actually kissing a Wookiee, all the more when the plan had turned out to work like a dream.

Without the transponder beacon, they never would have found this world, invisible in space because there was no sun anywhere close enough and formed of dull black rock. Poe would rather not think how Rey had come here in the first place, and was glad that the same question hadn't yet occurred to Finn. He simply followed the beacon's signal and trusted the _Falcon's_ ground proximity warnings, until they got so close that both signals were indistinguishable.

Under different circumstances, Poe would have chosen a more suitable site for landing a ship sized like the _Falcon_ , but for once it wasn't Finn's panic that urged him to negotiate his way straight into the ruins of what must have been a city once.

The bright headlights showed a scene of carnage underneath, and Rey – clearly recognisable in her light clothes – right in the midst of a fierce battle. Poe counted four combatants still standing (and about a dozen or so on the grounds, but it was difficult to say for sure because half of them missed arms, legs, heads or their other half even) and hacking at each other with lightsabres (three red and Rey's two blue halves) like nothing he had ever seen before.

She fought in concert with another figure that he wouldn't have recognised if it hadn't been for Finn's horrified yelp.

"It's Kylo Ren!"

Which in turn made Chewbacca utter one of those untranslatable oaths.

Well, clearly Ren wasn't Rey's greatest problem in this moment; she was battling with a man in what looked like a skull mask, both moving so quickly they appeared like mere blurs at times, shooting blue sparks of lightning at each other with one hand while fighting with their lightsabres. Meanwhile Kylo Ren was busy wrestling with a guy almost as tall as Chewbacca and twice as broad, with a sword as long as Rose was tall, who in addition shot at him out of some strange kind of blaster attached to his arm. Ren met every blast with his blade or flicked it away with his free _hand_ , in between whirling around and keeping Rey's attacker from making a decisive blow before turning back to his own assailant who was just about to strike when he was thrown back six feet by one of Rey's flashes of blue lightning.

Poe would truly have liked to watch the spectacle, but he had a ship to land in the middle of all that debris. His crew though stood gathered in the cockpit and stared with dropped jaws.

"This is incredible," Rose gasped. "Look at her! _Look at her!_ "

But Finn didn't see the awe-inspiring fight, all he could see was Rey's left arm bleeding from a horrible gash. "She's wounded!"

As soon as the _Falcon_ was on the ground, Poe jumped up and left Chewbacca in charge. "Use the board cannons if you must, Chewie. Rose – stay here, we may need to make a quick getaway. Finn, you – Finn?"

But Finn was already on his way out, blaster at the ready, so it were only Rose, Chewbacca and ten Porgs witnessing the glorious finale. Their blades locked, Rey's opponent cast a huge blue ball of fire at her, which she threw back at him with a wave of her hand and that cleaved him right through, while Kylo Ren swung back and severed his enemy's head from his body with such ferocity it flew out of sight.

Gasping for breath, they turned to each other, their faces partly bewildered, partly joyous, partly illuminated by mutual admiration and each took a step towards the other.

"Oh my god, Rey, you're hurt!" Finn screamed, breaking up whatever reunion had been about to take place down there.

x X x

 **7.**

 _Even the oldest stories are new to somebody._

 _AMELIA CRUPP – Sandman_

General Hux didn't know whether to rejoice that his troops had taken one of the last remaining Resistance members alive – ready for interrogation, that was – or begrudge the fact that he hadn't got a chance to try out the newest weapon at his disposal. Oh well, it was what it was.

He had the lout brought to the _Supremacy_ and personally conducted the – let's call it interview – only to find that the result rather weighed in regret's favour. This Lieutenant Pyter had not much useful to contribute; he had been in contact with only one other, very minor, Resistance fighter, whose pursuit wouldn't have been worthwhile at all (if it hadn't been for the general's wish to give his new weapon a go), and after having been subjected to every torture and truth drug at hand, perished without anybody considering it necessary to revive him once more.

Hux would have dismissed the whole episode, if it hadn't been for one of his junior officers, Sub-Lieutenant Cairns, approaching him with a self-important mien. "General Hux, sir, there is one more thing you may be interested in."

"Is there," the general retorted, ostensibly doubtful.

But when he was shown the recording of the now dead prisoner being taken by a squad of Stormtroopers, and informed by that young, ambitious officer (who might just be at the start of a great career) that he was capable of lip-reading, he had second thoughts about his careless resignation to that Resistance snot's death. Apparently, he had simply asked the wrong questions.

He ordered the Stormtrooper squad in question to his office. They confirmed one of the two crucial items, strenuously denied the other, and Hux had Cairns put them in solitary confinement without any further contact to anyone except some droids without audio equipment.

x X x

 **8\. Corellian Stand-Off**

"One wrong move, Ren, and Chewie will be happy to give you a taste of the _Falcon's_ board cannons!"

"Don't be silly and put that thing away, Poe," Rey cried and pushed down the arm levelling a blaster at the man in black. "You too, Finn."

"What?!"

"Take a look around, will you. Those were the Knights of Ren," she said quite smugly.

Poe followed her gesturing hand and marvelled at the bloodbath, but Finn, his blaster still vaguely pointing in the general direction of the heavily breathing enemy, could hold back no longer. He enfolded Rey in his free arm. "Good heavens, I thought we had lost you!"

"Well, that was the basic idea in fact," she mumbled against his shoulder. "Now take down the damned gun."

"But he –"

She freed herself. "He could strike you down with a flick of his little finger if he wanted. Which clearly isn't the case."

The man in question watched the scene in thoughtful silence and definitely not as certain as she was that he wouldn't do exactly that. He shared one long look with the man whom he knew as FN-2187 in mutual loathing. The former Stormtrooper looked away first, too engrossed by the reunion with his friend and only faintly registering that Ren's gaze lingered on him much longer.

For once, Rey noticed only very little of what was going through the head of Ben Solo. She was too wrapped up in her own strange mix of emotions. There was exhilaration to have actually won this battle and all the surging adrenaline coming with that. There was the joy to once again see her friends as much as the bewilderment to encounter them _here_ of all places. There was pride in her own success and baffled admiration for Ben, and more than slight anxiety how the _Millennium Falcon's_ crew would take to him. Overall though, she was just so incredibly _happy_ that nothing could truly permeate the rosy bubble enclosing her.

He on the other hand registered her reactions very clearly, the happiness most of all. Of course, she was back where she belonged. Back with her friends, back with that guy who so obviously adored her. Back with the _Resistance_. He thought he actually recognised the excitement, he had seen it all before, lots of times, in his mother. No use fighting with _that_. Spare yourself the disappointment.

There was an old TIE-fighter in Nephrity Valley. And there was another Jedi trick he hadn't yet tried.

x X x

 **9.**

Not doubting that Rey's assessment of Kylo Ren's abilities was accurate, Poe's thoughts were racing what to do with the guy before he could murder them all. Clearly a fight was not an option. Yet the alternative – to just let the _Falcon's_ cannons blast him to kingdom come – made him intensely uncomfortable, too. These were _exactly_ the sort of decisions that he had been happy in the past to have others deal with!

With knitted brows he observed Ren, who in turn seemed absorbed watching Finn and Rey – and in the blink of an eye he was gone. Not trusting his eyes, Poe blinked once more, then his jaw dropped.

"What the –"

And then the decision came to him all by itself. He turned on his heel, snatching Finn's elbow in one large move. "Let's get away before he reconsiders."

Rey's gaze fell on the spot where only two seconds ago Ben Solo had been standing and which was just a piece of black pavement glistening in the rain and the _Falcon's_ headlights now. She spun around searching for him, feeling he was close but not seeing him anywhere.

Poe caught her by the shoulder and dragged her up the ramp. "Get a move on, girl!"

"No! Where is Ben? What –"

She struggled so hard that he couldn't maintain his grip. "This really isn't the time to explain the concept of a Corellian stand-off," he snapped, exasperated. "Go! Go! Go!"

'He's right,' she heard Ben's voice in her head.

'Where are you!'

'Almost gone already, and so should you be.'

'But –'

'Stick to the _Falcon_ no matter what you do. I gave orders she must not be touched, you and your friends are safe there. Try to steer clear of our destroyers all the same though.'

' _Our_ destroyers?! You can't be going back!'

But his presence in her mind disappeared just as suddenly as his physical presence had, and she was so confused she let Poe pull her up into the _Millennium Falcon_ without further resistance.

From inside the ruin, surrounded by some body parts of the men he had once called his comrades, he watched the _Falcon_ taking off. His pulse was racing as much from the aftermath of the fight as from the effort to teleport, and, if he was absolutely honest, the agitation he felt in this moment. Eyes closed, he sat leaning against a wall for a long time until he thought he had collected himself enough to make the way over to Nephrity Valley.

x X x


	10. Turn Around

**X. TURN AROUND**

* * *

 **1\. The Final Straw**

 _Always in my thoughts, you are  
Always in my dreams, you are  
Always out of reach, you are_

 _Down inside my soul, you are  
Simple like a child, you are  
Something in your heart, so cruel  
I remember when you took my hand and led me through the rain  
Innocent, the time we spent  
Forgot to mention we're good friends  
The more I show the way I feel the less I find that you give a damn  
The more I get to know the less I find that I understand  
I thought it was the start of something beautiful, well think again_

 _PORCUPINE TREE – The Start of Something Beautiful_

Rey had barely stopped on deck to drink two litres of water and put a bandage around her left arm, not even allowing anybody to take a look at what appeared like a blend between a savage bite and a lightsabre wound, before barricading herself in Han Solo's secret hideout.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's not exactly over the moon that we travelled through half the galaxy in order to save her," Poe remarked slightly piqued.

"Leave her be," Rose replied, "She must be tired. I'm sure she'll be right as rain as soon as smelling dinner."

Poe grinned. "I guess that's my cue. Poe Dameron, flying ace and master chef."

"I think you should warm up some of that humble pie," Rose retorted, making even Finn laugh. Soon, tasty smells of fried aiwha eggs and moof bacon filled the air – but Rey seemed not to notice.

So Rose went to fetch her, but found the door sealed and the other woman disinterested. She returned with a shrug. "She said she's not hungry."

'But she's _always_ hungry!' Chewbacca said in Shyriiwook.

"What?"

"He says she's always hungry," Poe translated with a frown.

"Exactly! And she's been down there for _hours_ ," Finn agreed with the typical expression he had in store when worrying about the girl. For once though, Rose thought he might have a point. When a couple of hours later, she still hadn't made any appearance upstairs, Rose, Finn and Poe joined forces and climbed down.

"Rey! Rey, are you okay?" Finn yelled as he hammered against the re-enforced metal.

"Just leave me alone."

"Is it the injury?"

"No."

"We kept you some moof –"

"Get lost, will you!"

The three of them exchanged puzzled glances, but couldn't think of anything else to do.

Inside the storeroom in total darkness, Rey slumped back to lie curled up on the floor and bury her face in her arms.

She couldn't have said what had come over her, but for once she was certain that it was her own sadness. She had been sad before, lots of times. All those nights back on Jakku when she had been lying in the darkness, incapable to fall asleep for all the grief tossing inside of her like one of those storm floods she had never seen but only ever dreamt about, when she had bitten onto her little doll to keep herself from making any noise, because it was unwise to make sounds in the middle of the night in the desert and let the predators know where you were. When all her usual tricks to distract herself had no longer worked, like constructing an engine in her head out of the scraps surrounding her, like imagining a placid little island upon which the sun shone not like a menace but a friend in a deep green sea, gentle cool winds teasing your hair and your skin, like picturing her mother and father (how did they look?) enmeshed in the galaxy's greatest untold adventure, so urgent that it was impossible for them to get back to their daughter just yet.

Yes, she had been sad then, but she had gotten over it, hadn't she? She had come to accept that her parents were no super-secret agents for whatever power on a mission to save the galaxy, but just like the other drunks hanging around the various taverns all over Niima Outpost, pathetic creatures without pasts or futures, who'd probably forgotten they ever had a child fifteen minutes after selling her as they were downing the next of all those drinks they could afford that night with their newly-gained little fortune. They had meant the world to their daughter, but she had meant nothing to them.

' _You_ created yourself, your name, all of it. You have no one to thank for what you are but yourself; your parents were nothing. They don't matter. Only you matter.'

Oh, how she had wanted to believe _this_ instead. How eager had she been to accept any outstretched hand – Han Solo's, Leia's, even their son's – _especially_ their son's, who had seemed to understand her better than anyone she had ever met.

A wave of anger surged against the shores of her despair, anger at him as much as at herself. How could she have been so _stupid_ still to put her trust in goddamned _Ben Solo!_ She should have known better, she _had_ known better and yet she had refused to believe, moved by his grief and loneliness and confusion, which she had thought were mirroring her own. Heaven knew, she'd been here before! How often until she'd finally learn! As if he was doing it on purpose, coaxing her into trusting him – and _then_ -

But this was different, a small voice in her head whispered timidly but tenaciously. No, it bloody _wasn't_ , as evidenced by the fact that he had left her at the first possible opportunity! After all that talk, _you need a teacher, let me teach you_ – where was he now, eh? But you didn't want him to teach you, you wanted to teach _him_ , the voice insisted, as if that made any difference.

How was this even possible? One should have thought that after an entire lifetime of being abandoned, she should have gotten used to it by now. To the contrary! She felt more forlorn than ever before.

She was so agitated, she didn't notice the gentle shift in the atmosphere that always preceded their meetings, so she was really startled when she heard Ben's voice behind her.

'Hey, what is it?' he asked with a note of what sounded like genuine concern.

'You! _You!_ ' she gasped and shot around, infuriated even by the anxious look in his eyes.

'I don't understand – what happened?' he asked. 'You were so happy when I left –'

'Go figure!' she retorted viciously and zipped the vision up.

x X x

 **2.**

He had been trudging through the – for want of a better word – countryside in the soaking rain and complete darkness, relying on the Force to find his way to Nephrity Valley, wrapped up in desolation and since this was pretty much the state he was in himself whereas Rey had been happiness personified when he had last seen her (and he didn't know her to be low, ever), it had taken him a while to understand that at least a part of this gloom wasn't his own. So he had tried to make sure she was alright – which by the way she did _not_ appear to be, if her puffy eyes and runny nose where anything to go by – but instead of an answer, she had simply kicked him out.

What had happened to her? Had her friends done something to her? Had the deserter hurt her?! Had they been captured?

He _had_ to know for certain. So he tried again, finding her in the same pose as before, but actually sobbing this time.

'Please Rey, what is it?'

She raised her head, her face gleaming with tears, but her eyes ablaze. When she tried to zip him out once more though, she couldn't manage it and began to cry again in earnest.

'Please, tell me.'

'Tell you! What's to tell! Everybody – _everybody_ – just…' She gasped for breath. 'First my parents – now you – you all just – just _take off_ and leave me behind – _all alone!_ '

He stared at her in perfect confusion. She _couldn't_ be upset because he had left. Could she? 'But – that's not… I didn't – what else – I mean…' He tried to get a grip on himself; the poor woman was clearly in need of some support, not idiot stammering. 'You're _not_ alone. Your friends searched the _galaxy_ only to find you. And came to get you. _You_ are not _alone_.'

Her crying changed. Apparently, he had made things even worse, though he really couldn't say how. 'Where are they, anyway? Did they – did something happen, or why –'

'They're upstairs,' she blubbered and wiped her face with her arm.

'Why aren't they with you though! You need some company.'

'I told them to go to hell.'

'Oh.'

'Why did you leave!'

'I wasn't keen on being shot by the _Falcon's_ cannons – even if it might have been considered poetic justice in a way.'

This at least made her smile, if only a little. 'You _know_ I wouldn't have left them shoot you.'

'Well –'

' _Why_ did you leave me!'

He _couldn't_ tell her the truth, but he couldn't lie to her either. So he said nothing.

His silence let her fury return with a vengeance. 'Come on, say it!' she shouted.

'I can't –'

'Just say it! I just wasn't worth staying for, 'cause I'm nothing! _Say it!_ '

'What?! No!'

'You can be honest with me, I can take it. Just spit it out and let's get this over with! You needn't spare me, you know!'

'You want honesty?!' He took a deep breath. 'You already know the answer, but sure, I can repeat it for you, why not! Let's see how well you can handle it! You are the last – the _only_ person I care for in all the galaxy, the _only_ person I have met, _ever_ , that I would have wanted to call my friend. I would have given _anything_ for you to stay with me, but _you_ abandoned _me!_ I left because I didn't trust myself how I might have taken it if you had once again chosen your friends over me. Last time I decided on the spur (or should it be spurn!) of the moment to become the bloody Supreme Leader of the bloody First Order only so I could ride a fighter into battle, I _really_ didn't want to find out what I'd have done this time around!'

So much for honesty. It felt like a great weight being taken off his chest, admittedly, but it had rendered her perfectly speechless, staring at him as if he had sprouted a second head.

Much, much calmer (he had been shouting at the top of his lungs), he added, 'Look, I'm sorry. It took me a long time, but by now, I _get_ it. I really get it. Your place is with the Resistance – with your friends. It was wrong of me that day to ask you to choose between them and me.'

She shook herself, as if waking up, not breaking eye-contact. 'I didn't choose them over you,' she mouthed rather than spoke because she had no voice, but he heard her all the same. 'You just chose a path where I could not follow… Please Ben, come with us. Come with _me_.'

'And now you want me to choose.'

'Yes, I do, and I want you to choose _me!_ '

If at all possible, his confusion got worse. He had _thought_ he had figured it out, but clearly he had been mistaken, or he was mistaking her now and quite comprehensively. She sounded so – _so_ – despondent, he would have called it in anybody else. Not in her though. Her default mode was defiance. Whatever threat she was faced with, be it mind-breaking interrogation or execution by Snoke or rape by a dozen lunatics, she just raised her chin and fought back.

Yet here she was, her large brown eyes glistening with tears and immobilising him like tractor beams, asking him – imploring him – to _choose her?_

'But I _do!_ I _do_ choose you! It's not even a _choice_ , I couldn't _not_ choose you even if I wanted!' He cleared his suddenly very dry throat. 'We seem to be quite – stuck with each other, aren't we? I just can't go with you.'

'But _why_?'

She sounded so distressed, new tears were welling in her eyes; it took him all his will not to give in, and for the first time in his life, he thought he actually understood his mother, too. ' _Darling, there are things more important than me and you and what_ we _want._ '

'If I don't go back,' he forced himself to say, 'the fate of the whole galaxy will be in the hands of – of people even worse than me. I can – look, if I joined you and your friends, the only thing I could do would be to blow up a ship on occasion, and what good would that be to anyone? But I can make a real difference there. I can see to it that the laws are just, I can put good people in the right places, I can bring back peace and stability. That's what you and your friends are fighting for, too, isn't it?'

She opened and shut her mouth, swallowed hard, desperate for an answer, desperate altogether. He felt the forlornness in her, the fear of loss; it tore him asunder as much as her.

'Neither of us will ever be truly alone,' he whispered, as much to comfort her as himself. 'We'll always have this.'

Arrested as ever by his gaze and feeling his absolute sincerity, Rey felt that icy ball of desperation in her guts slowly melting. She pushed herself up and wiped her eyes, then quite unceremoniously utilised one of the short lightsabres on her staff to cut off ten inches of the bandages she had instead of sleeves and used them as a hanky. The sight made him chuckle, and when she looked back at him, she smiled a little, too.

' _Promise_ ,' she said.

'I promise.'

x X x

 **3.**

 _I'm a man with a one track mind  
So much to do in one lifetime (people do you hear me)  
Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies  
So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all  
And I'm giving it all, and I'm giving it all…_

 _It ain't much I'm asking, if you want the truth  
Here's to the future  
Hear the cry of youth  
I want it all, I want it all, I want it all and I want it now_

 _QUEEN – I Want It All_

With Ren out of the way, whether he came back or not, and the last surviving members of the Resistance having fled to the Unknown Regions, General Hux had seen fit to indulge in a bottle of the very best and drunk most of it already when raising it now.

"Sometimes, life is _good_ ," he said with a heavy slur, waving his bottle for emphasis.

She wasn't half as drunk as he and grinned at his inebriation. "Aren't you glad now the Ionator wasn't ready yet?"

He grinned back wolfishly. "You have no idea, my dear."

"How long until you officially give up the search?"

"Ph, we can go on for a while yet, can't we? I'm Ren's deputy, and like this no one can get the idea of questioning my authority."

Phasma laughed. "They wouldn't dare."

He took a deep swig and went on, "Damn it, Phasma – why couldn't you be a man?"

She gave him a mocking smile. "Why? I believe I miss that chromosome."

"If only you _were_ a man!"

"You seem damned sure I'd want you if I was one."

"We'd have made a _perfect_ couple."

She shook her head indulgently. "If you grew another five inches and put on thirty pounds of muscles, why yes, we might have indeed."

"Still – will you rule the galaxy with me?"

"My men are at your command."

"You will be loyal to me and our cause?"

"That you even need to ask."

"Let's drink to that."

They each motioned to take a gulp out of their own bottles, hesitated, smiled shyly. She said, "In these circumstances, perhaps it's about time to put a little more trust into each other."

She offered him her bottle, he hesitated once more, then took it and proffered her his own. They clicked the bottoms.

"To our rule."

"Shall it be supreme indeed."

They drank. Almost instantly, her face fell, she eyed him in perfect disbelief. "You – you – but I saw you drink this!"

He put on an apologetic smile. "Yes. But then you see, I took the antidote beforehand."

"But _why?!_ "

"You really thought you had gotten away with it, didn't you?"

"What?!"

"You know what else that piece of scum taunted your soldiers with? How no one but their own commander had surrendered to the Resistance and disabled the shields of Starkiller Base." Even at death's door, she flushed and he went on, "You don't believe in our cause, if you truly believed in it, you'd have died rather than betrayed it. And now you will."

"You _bastard_!" She pushed over the table and threw him to the ground, then raised her staff and with her last strength brought it crashing down on him. He could barely roll aside before she split his skull. He managed to dodge another two or three knocks, the fourth hit him squarely on the chest, but she was already so weakened that it merely cracked a couple of rips. Then she collapsed.

x X x

 **4.**

 _So close, no matter how far  
Couldn't be much more from the heart  
Forever trusting who we are  
And nothing else matters_

 _Never opened myself this way  
Life is ours, we live it our way  
All these words I don't just say  
And nothing else matters_

 _METALLICA – Nothing Else Matters_

When the vision faded, Rey's equanimity was quite restored, and that was putting it mildly. She lingered some longer on their conversation – on those they had shared on that darned honey planet whose name she couldn't remember – finally coming back to the vision she had had of his future that night on Ahch-To. Suddenly, she was filled with glorious certainty, warm, golden certainty. Ben Solo was not lost. He had never been lost completely, buried deeply, yes, suffocated to the brink of extinction, but he had survived in the tomb of Kylo Ren, and he was coming back. It was going to be alright. _He_ was going to be alright. He was her friend, he had promised her they'd always have 'this'. 'This' was good enough for her. No, it was more than that, it was great. She could handle solitude, she was used to it, it was only loneliness that frightened her. But he was never again going to leave her alone, she _knew_ it. The certainty was so exhilarating, she wriggled and kicked her legs and laughed out loud.

She would never ever be alone again.

Her bliss was so complete, it took her a long while to return to the present far enough to notice that she was starving (she hadn't eaten anything in – how many?! – days), and still wearing her honey-drenched clothes that had been baked by the two suns and become a solid shell that might require a chisel to remove. She also remembered her friends upstairs, and that they might be worried.

Over a huge plate of bread, eggs and moof bacon, she gave a somewhat disjointed account (which wasn't rendered any more intelligible by the huge mouthfuls she wolfed down) of what had happened since they had last seen each other (nicked fertilizer scow – _Supremacy_ – tractor beam – Ben Solo – crash landing – ocean of honey – Ben Solo – the Force – Ben Solo – warps – Warps?! – Yes, _warps!_ – Ben Solo – Knights of Ren – _epic_ fight – Ben Solo –)

She should have been used to it by now, but their disconcerted expressions of bewilderment still unnerved her.

"What?"

"Nothing! Just…"

"Just…?"

"You sound like…" Rose wetted her lips. "It sounds – as if you –"

Finn finished the sentence for her with a reproachful expression. "As if you actually _liked Kylo Ren_."

"His name isn't Kylo Ren, it's Ben Solo."

"There it is again! My point exactly."

She had just taken a huge bite of Poe's mystery bread (they all agreed they wouldn't want to know what it was made of, but it was delicious) and could only goggle at him, shake her head and shrug. "Whua?"

"You _like_ him," Finn repeated, aghast.

She nodded, trying to gulp down the bread as she was confronted by three more or less shocked faces watching her masticating. In this moment, she wasn't aware that she had left out 99 percent of her tale so far, that they couldn't know what she knew for a fact, namely that Kylo Ren was as much a mask as his actual mask had been, and that underneath all that black bluster, Ben Solo was alive and –

"E's my 'rien'" she tried to pronounce without spitting.

Poe looked to Rose, as much for translation as confirmation. She returned the look with a shadow of a smile and repeated for clarity, "Friend, right?"

Rey nodded vehemently. You could always count on Rose to understand.

Not on Poe though. "Now that's grand," he groused, "isn't it grand? You've made a _friend_ – of the rotten leader of the First Order, but _hey!_ What's that signify!"

Rey shook her head, still trying to swallow (one of the odd properties of Poe's mystery bread was that it kind of trebled in your mouth) and also looking to Rose for putting into words what she couldn't pronounce just now.

The young woman rose to the occasion as expected. "But that's good," she said slowly, her eyes fixed on Rey. "For a start, it boosts our chances for survival –"

Poe merely kept on glaring, but Finn exploded. "You're both out of your minds! We're talking of _Kylo Ren!_ "

"Uen 'olo," Rey insisted with all the dignity she could muster with approximately half a pound of food in her mouth.

"It makes no difference what name you put on the monster, it still remains a monster –"

"'E's no monster!" Rey thundered, spraying spittle as well as bread all over the table and jumping to her feet. "I'm _not_ going to listen to this rubbish!"

She stomped off as Finn cried after her, "Well, you'd better! You're deluded, that's what you are!"

Her friends were speechless, each following her exit and their own train of thoughts. Rose, perhaps because she had never before met him personally and therefore hated only the symbol, not the man, was least disconcerted. 'That's how we're going to win,' she had once told Finn, 'not fighting what we hate, but saving what we love.' Yes, well. For a start, their master appeared to have turned against the Knights of Ren in order to save Rey – and speaking of it – he'd turned against Snoke, too, once her life had been in danger. Kylo Ren – or Ben Solo – seemed to like Rey enough to turn against his own people; that wasn't a bad start, was it? And Rey clearly returned that affection to some degree – which was either really big of her or really weird, but Rose wasn't going to think any worse of her for that.

Poe's thoughts on the matter weren't half as generous. He _had_ met Kylo Ren before, tied to an interrogation board while the man had broken all his defences first, into his head next, and extracted information that Poe would proudly have died for rather than give it up. Only recently, his hometown had been annihilated on Kylo Ren's orders; nearly everyone that Poe had ever called his friend was dead thanks to Ren and his cronies. This was _personal_.

However, until this day he had never before seen him without the damned mask and curiously, this did make a big difference – because the young man had his mother's eyes. Like Finn, Poe was a soldier by training (different army, of course) and had long ago learnt what a difference it made to look one's opponent in the face when killing him. This was why he had hesitated to have Ren simply blasted away by the _Falcon's_ cannons; he was sure he wouldn't have faltered if Ren had been wearing his mask. But he hadn't, and that face had been so unlike what Poe would have expected, so youthful, vulnerable even, the black eyes glued to young Rey in something quite like despair. For a brief moment, Poe too, hadn't seen Kylo Ren, but Leia Organa's son.

Unsurprisingly, Finn's feelings were the most resentful of the three of them. Kylo Ren represented everything that he hated and desperately wanted to get away from, represented the ruthless Order that had robbed him of his parents, his identity, even his own _name_. And it wasn't just what he stood for. Finn knew Kylo Ren of old, better than anyone else on the _Millennium Falcon_ , he thought. Seasoned generals had flinched away from him when he had stalked through the corridors, and Finn had seen his horrendous powers close-up, too. The man didn't bother to wrench on a stuck door – he simply blasted it away with a flick of his hand. Whenever a recalcitrant prisoner hadn't surrendered to the usual interrogation methods, they had sent Ren in, and after a minute filled by screams that would forever haunt Finn, he had come out again with the wanted information. Try to shoot him – and he just stopped the blaster fire in mid-air. Kylo Ren was the kind of black monster that besieged you in your nightmares.

Finn had never been close to Leia Organa; her son's resemblance to her didn't do a thing for him. Still, seeing that face made an effect on Finn as much as on Poe – with opposite results though. He found it even more threatening than the mask.

"I don't like it," he muttered without giving any context his friends could latch on.

"She'll be alright," Rose replied, guessing what he meant and suppressing the urge to roll her eyes.

"All this time she spent with him – you don't think he's tried anything, do you?"

"Depends on what you mean by _anything_ ," Poe said before he could stop himself and made an apologetic face. "Sorry."

"You _know_ that's _not_ what I mean."

"I'm not quite –"

Finn just gesticulated wildly. "What if he tried to turn her?"

Poe pondered the question for a minute, then shook his head. "No. I don't think there is any danger our girl will go down the Dark side."

"But you heard her!"

Poe once more sought Rose's gaze for confirmation, as she awkwardly patted Finn's arm and said, "She didn't take up his offer to rule the galaxy with him after he had just killed Snoke to save her life. She's not going down that path now."

"But back then he hadn't had the time to corrupt her yet!"

"Please, Finn, you know her perhaps better than anyone," she sighed. "There is nothing in her that could be corrupted. She's not got an ounce of ambition, or deeply buried hatred, thirst for revenge or envy or fear – nothing that the dark side could latch on to."

Slowly, he nodded. He had come to rely on Rose's opinion; she was usually right. But… "But why's she so upset, then?"

Rose exchanged another swift glance with Poe of the 'shall you tell him or do I have to?' sort. Neither of them had the heart to say it though. "I guess it's all been a bit much for her lately," Rose lied, avoiding to look at Finn. "Come on, let's play a round of Dejarik. This time, I'll beat you for sure."

x X x

 **5\. Happy**

 _Because I'm happy  
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth  
Because I'm happy_

 _PHARRELL WILLIAMS – Happy_

In the history of the galaxy, no one could ever have enjoyed a hot shower more than Rey did, she thought. The entire concept of showers still didn't fail to amaze and delight her (her whole life, she had had to make do with water of doubtful provenance in a rusty bucket), but this one was even better than usual. Her anger at Finn evaporated almost as soon as stepping under the warm jet; like her earlier despondency it simply stood no chance to compete with that fuzzy feeling of bliss permeating her whole being from head to toe. She didn't even notice any of the other bruises and scratches she had received, only the one on her arm, and that chiefly to marvel how quickly his bite had healed – it wasn't much more than a teeth-shaped dark pink scar, even though it had happened just thirty hours or so ago. The gash from the lightsabre went right through it like an arrow and now that she focused on it, hurt quite a lot. But not even physical pain could put a damper on her mood.

She showered until the water finally got colder, then towelled herself vigorously ( _real_ towels – another of those marvellous inventions they had missed out on on Jakku!) when it hit her, a gigantic surge roaring through the Force, worse than when Leia had died, worse even than when Starkiller Base had destroyed all those planets (but then, she hadn't been really in the Force yet). She tumbled and hit her head on the wall before slowly gliding to the floor, as her legs would no longer support her.

For a swift second her panic drowned everything else. Ben! Had something happened to Ben! _No_. No, she could feel he was alive. She had felt Luke's death, and Leia's, she'd feel his so much more deeply. But something must have happened to someone else somewhere else. Something infinitely dreadful.

x X x

 **6.**

 _The moon shook and curled up like gentle fire  
The ocean glazed and melted wire  
Voices buzzed in spiral eyes  
Stars dived in blinding skies  
Stars die, blinding skies  
Tree cracked and mountain cried  
Bridges broke, window sighed  
Cells grew up and rivers burst  
Sound obscured and sense reversed  
Stars die, blinding skies_

 _PORCUPINE TREE – Stars Die_

An invisible needle of concentrated energy stabbed the earth out of the blue and exited the planet as inconspicuously as it had pierced it on its other side.

Ten seconds later, all kinds of animals startled and panicked; Ffts ran up trees, Burra fish jumped out of the oceans, herds of Nerfs trampled down fences and stampeded over their shepherds, flocks of Nephs took to the air, higher and higher.

Twenty seconds later human and other sentient beings thought they could hear a faint grumbling sound but couldn't make out its source.

Thirty seconds later the grumbling had risen in intensity to a degree that ripped out the eardrums of those beings who had those.

Forty-five seconds later, all seas, oceans, rivers and other bodies of water had evaporated.

Fifty-one seconds later, every life-form had perished.

Sixty seconds later the grounds of the entire planet rose. And rose. And rose with ever-increasing velocity.

Seventy seconds later, the planet of Fatthree finally blew up.

A small boy on Cantonia fell to the floor, curled up and began to sob. A Rodian who was just about to cut another Rodian's throat dropped his dagger and stumbled. Two sisters on Dalos IV shared a shocked glance before throwing up in unison. An Ithorian pupa started wailing so loudly that all the windows of his parents' house burst. A Twi'lek nearly got strangled by his own Lekku.

All through the galaxy, similar scenes took place, as every Force-sensitive being and even some that were just well-attuned to it felt the annihilation of Fatthree.

x X x

 **7.**

Long story short: after trekking to Nephrity Valley for another couple of hours – but in _much_ higher spirits than at the beginning of that journey, not to say elation (but then, he had never experienced elation before and couldn't class this feeling of exquisite happiness) – he had eventually found the TIE-fighter in question. Not only had the pilot's skeleton still been in the cockpit, but the whole thing had been in a much worse state than he had feared – oddly though, he had found he knew how to fix it at least so far as to get it airborne once more and send out a distress call to whichever ship of the First Order fleet was close enough to come to his aid.

Still, it had all the flying comfort of trying to steer a flea circus, so when he suddenly found himself in an asteroid field, he couldn't help it but remember C-3PO's habitual remark in these situations ("The possibility of successfully navigating an asteroid field is approximately 3,720 to 1!") and never one for unwarranted optimism (or any optimism, really) swiftly thought that in a ship such as this one, he was done for.

The idea passed as quickly as it had come and was replaced by simple obstinacy. He had just won a battle against half of the Knights of Ren, damn it! And given his word to the only friend he had ever had in his life not to leave her. And talking of her – he knew in his heart of hearts that she was as fond of him as he was of her, it was as if someone had turned on a warm, bright light that floated through his mind, his heart, his body, his entire being. He was _not_ going to perish now in a silly asteroid field!

But good resolutions are one thing; negotiating his way through this actually quite another even for an excellent pilot, the son of Han Solo and grandchild of Darth Vader and then –

A massive disturbance rippled through the Force and took his breath; he blacked out for a moment and his stomach turned as icy fingers grabbed his for his heart and squeezed. He recognised the feeling, he had experienced the same when the Hosnian system had been destroyed – it was horrible and intense, but it was _not_ personal. He didn't think for a second that something could have happened to Rey, which was lucky, because even this brief minute of distraction had led him on a direct collision course with an asteroid the size of a small freighter, which he managed to avoid by mere inches.

Not much later, he came across the _Determinator_ , whose commander, Captain Dison, couldn't decide whether to rejoice to be the one to find and save their Supreme Leader, or curse his rotten luck.

He had never met the man in person, but he had heard _a lot_ , about poor Captain Chandrila for example, who wasn't expected to eat solid food for at least a year. The actual confrontation was different though from what Dison would have expected. The Supreme Leader was much younger, for a start, not wearing his famous mask, no cape, just something that might in another life have been part of a black armour suit, only that it was so incredibly caked that it formed a kind of armour itself. His temper wasn't entirely threatening either; he seemed rather stricken and exhausted, demanding to know 'what happened' and when Dison couldn't give any better answer than an anxious 'we don't exactly know, sir, only that there was another attack on a Resistance base', he merely stared at him with the force of a laser beam, then shook his head and ordered to be ferried back to the _Supremacy_ – oh, and water, some food and a change of clothes.

Naturally, the _Determinator_ didn't carry anything remotely resembling the man's armour; in fact, the only thing at all adequate (or correctly sized) on offer was the standard dark grey officer uniform. Once more, Dison braced himself for trouble, and once again, none came.

Well, that had gone surprisingly well, Dison thought, not a little self-righteous. People always made such a fuss over nothing. Their Supreme Leader's manners left nothing to be desired. And in all likelihood, Chandrila was just faking it and enjoying a prolonged sick leave on Egips!

x X x

 **8\. Advancement of Technology**

The Supreme Leader's arrival on the _Supremacy_ was greeted with a great show of relief and elation ('show' undoubtedly being the operative word there). With growing impatience, he learnt that he had been gone for five days, in spite of the _frantic_ search for him (oh yes, _sure!_ ) – but that this comparatively short period of time had been enough for some material changes. For a start, Captain Phasma, heartbroken over the loss of the Stormtrooper program, had apparently committed suicide (he didn't believe it for one second) and General Hux was off sick as he had had an accident in the shower and cracked a few ribs (… _?!_ ). Even so, he had commanded the _Supremacy's_ first official mission since she'd been taken back into service, and bombed an entire planet out of existence.

He stared at the reports uncomprehendingly, then demanded Hux and some of the chief engineers to show up in his office _at once_ and answer a couple of _very_ pertinent questions he had on that score.

Foremost – how was that even possible?! One of the engineers, his breast swollen with pride, explained something about Death Star know-how, advancement of technology, ions, the possibility to split the atoms within a planet's core from a great distance, thus igniting the core like a giant nuclear bomb. The man was so taken by his success, he barely noticed the undiluted horror in his superior's face.

Then it was Hux's turn to elaborate _why on earth_ they had done this to – what was the name? Fatthree?!

Hux put on an innocently offended expression. "But Supreme Leader, we received intelligence that a member of the Resistance – one Lieutenant Connix – native of Fatthree was not only hiding there, but actively tried to commandeer a couple of ships in order to resume hostilities –"

"You blew up an entire _planet_ –" He skimmed the report. "– inhabited by three hundred million people – _three hundred million_ , General! – because someone stole some ships?!"

He had almost screamed, but Hux did not flinch. "Allow me to remind you, Supreme Leader, but you did give the order to – and I quote – 'vanquish the last Resistance members from the face of the galaxy for good'."

His superior was appalled, as much by his recollection of that specific order as by Hux's apparently genuine lack of awareness of the problem. "I can only repeat myself, General – you annihilated a _planet_ in order to take out _one_ enemy?!"

"For a start, they gave shelter to a declared enemy of the First Order –"

"All three hundred million of them!"

"Oh well, the Ionator isn't exactly a surgical instrument."

"You can say that again! But we do have those, haven't we! Last time you wanted to dispose of some rebels, you merely bombed a city!"

"Surely you will agree, Supreme Leader, that we had to test the Ionator –"

"Out! OUT! _Get out of here before I forget myself!_ "

x X x

 **9\. Self-Realisation, Part 1**

 _I've learned from my mistakes, but I've had more time to commit more mistakes._

 _HOB GADLING – Sandman_

When he was alone again and had mastered both his heart and breathing rate, the master of the galaxy dropped his head on his desk, utterly exhausted.

Whenever in the past he had thought, 'this is it, now I've seen it all', General Armitage Hux had effortlessly managed to surpass his worst expectations. But this incident really topped it all.

A mean little voice in his head said, you wanted a Death Star, now you have one. In miniature form, able to travel the galaxy at the speed of light if necessary. Oh yes. And a trigger-happy general to make the most of his new toy!

But Hux was only a part of the problem, wasn't he? He couldn't deny that it was his own order – given in anger and misery, perhaps, but given loudly and unmistakably all the same – that had vindicated this atrocious attack. That Hux had enjoyed executing it didn't even come into it. It was his own fault, _he_ was to blame – not only for the death of these three hundred million beings, but a whole lot more. He didn't suffer from amnesia, he could recollect scores of attacks he had commanded or personally led, and while he had never bothered then to count his victims, he now found he couldn't even make an educated guess at their number. Thousands, possibly. No, _much_ more – the recent bombings of all those cities in which members of the Resistance had been must have killed ten or twenty millions. And 99 percent of them had been what was so carelessly termed 'collateral casualties', villagers, servants, neighbours, innocent bystanders, people whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Sure, he had felt justified then. With one horrible exception, he had never killed anyone outside of self-defence or war – but what about this war, eh? Who had started it, and for what? To destroy the Republic? Heaven knew why the other adherents of the First Order hated it so, he could only speak for himself, and the answer put him to shame. He had clamoured for vengeance on the cause that he had felt his mother had loved more than her child. How pathetic was _that_ for an excuse?! Hux at least whole-heartedly believed in it.

For a moment, he pondered to simply get rid of the general, as he should have ages ago. And once again, he knew this wouldn't solve anything on the long run, or even the middle distance. He had examined all his high-ranking officers and there wasn't anybody he would trust to take Hux's position. They were either just as bad, just as blind, just as fanatic – or they lacked Hux's resourcefulness, resilience, sheer soldierly talent. Whom would you rather have in command of a fatal asset like the Ionator – a madman, or an incompetent idiot?!

The answer was quite simply: neither. A thing like that must not be allowed to exist.

x X x


	11. The Rebirth of Ben Solo

**XI. THE REBIRTH OF BEN SOLO**

* * *

 **1\. Self-Realisation, Part 2**

 _There's a happiness, a joy  
in one soul, that's been  
buried alive in everyone  
and forgotten._

 _JACK HIRSCHMAN – The Happiness_

He knew what he had to do, there was not a shadow of a doubt in him about it. This unprecedented certainty (usually, he was a laggard, forever unable to fully make up his mind) made him wonder though. It was exactly what his parents would have done. _Of course_ they would. So he had spent half of his life trying to steer clear of his parents, their opinions and influence – and to finally go full circle and end up exactly where he had started?

But it wasn't quite like that, was it? As a child, one absorbed opinions and ideas and accepted them as truth, because one didn't know any other. Maybe it was necessary to discard each and every single one of them and come to one's own conclusions instead? And if those self-reached conclusions matched what one had learnt a lifetime ago, so be it! But it were no longer learnt dogmas, but the results of one's own experience and reflection.

Maybe that was the process of shedding one's childhood – coming to own's own conclusions. He had learnt his mother's convictions, his father's philosophy, his uncle's teachings, had dabbled with the Knights of Ren's nihilism and lapped up Snoke's deceptions. And after all of this, after all he had learnt, he had indeed become the monster that he had felt inside of him as a child. – 'You are not a monster' he heard Rey's voice in his head, not as a vision but a memory. Oh, what did she know!

But she did know, didn't she? And she was under no illusions in this regard; she had seen him for what he was right from the start, and only amended her judgment after getting to know him better. _She_ believed he could be a good person, and finally he thought he saw a way to be exactly that. He knew that he had incurred more guilt than he could ever make up for. But he could put some matters right at least.

For the first time, he thought he could recognise that darkness inside of him for what it was – mere feelings and proclivities without inherent moral value. This separated them from actions, which had an intrinsic moral value at all times; there was scarcely anything one could do (or not do, as the case may be) that wasn't in itself ethical. But the feelings in themselves were not at fault there, and it was useless, dangerous even to deny them. In the first half of his life, he had tried to shut out fear and anger, in the second half love and compassion. Neither had worked; he had felt forever torn, and no matter which way he had gone down, he had known already he wouldn't be able to carry it off and dithered like a fathier between two haystacks.

Feelings were an undeniable fact of humanity (and most other sentient races), those making one happy as well as those that caused anxiety. Case in point: even Rey – sunny, kind, optimistic Rey –, whom he regarded to be his polar opposite in almost anything, had the full complement; while she was a creature of light, she, too, knew hate, rage, revenge, doubt and dread. He recalled the memory she had shared with him of her fight with Luke, in particular that moment when she had almost struck him down – but hadn't. Or her desire to avenge the death of Han Solo that night on Starkiller Base. Being her, she wasn't bothered by any of them but simply accepted them without classing them as either good or bad.

And thinking of Rey – he had to talk to her as soon as possible and warn her, who could say what Hux was going to do no matter what his actual orders were. You had to hand it to the man – he, too, acted on what he thought to be right, and wasn't afraid of facing the consequences. But he couldn't do so in his office; impossible to say who was going to walk in, so he got up in order to head to his own rooms.

He walked past a large pane of glass separating his office from the work floor beyond, and as he spotted his own reflection, saw his mother's eyes in his father's face, he recognised Ben Solo.

x X x

 **2.**

'What took you so long!' she greeted him, her eyes almost as wide as her smile.

'This is the first minute I have to myself actually –'

'I've missed you!'

'I've missed you, too,' he answered, inundated with joyousness, which was enhanced still by sensing the same feeling in her.

She looked him up and down with a grin. 'New clothes?'

'The last set can be used as a cast for my own monument. I had to use my lightsabre to get out of them.'

'Gosh, I know! These suit you though.'

'I don't feel comfortable in a uniform.'

'Yeah, I guess – but stick with the colour.'

He regarded her and noticed that she was wearing the same clothes she had when coming to the _Supremacy_ , they were darker and more – flowing? (he didn't have the right kind of vocabulary for this) than her usual attire. Under _any_ different circumstances, he would have liked to compliment her on them, and carry on in that light tone – but as things stood, his heart was sinking with the prospect that he had to destroy her happy mood.

Picking up on this, her face turned serious, too. 'What is it?'

'You've felt it, too, I know – the rift in the Force,' he said lowly, forcing himself to tell her the whole story despite her increasingly shocked expression, of Fatthree, of whoever Lieutenant Connix might have been, about the Ionator and its terrible power, urging her once again to stick to the _Millennium Falcon_ no matter what, and if she had any influence on, any contact to any other surviving members of the Resistance, inculcate them to stay away from any inhabited planets, too.

'But that's – how are we supposed to take on provisions? Or fuel? Or oxygen!'

'Rey, I need more time. Just a bit more time.'

'For what?'

'Time to make it right, of course.'

'But –'

'Please! Trust me, will you?' Fixing her with his gaze, he reached out and took her hands, pressing them tightly between his, then putting them onto his chest. 'Have faith in me, Rey, _please_.'

Wide-eyed, she nodded her head the slightest fraction.

x X x

 **3\. Torn**

She stood transfixed like that long after he had gone, torn between utter and complete elation, and bottomless horror. She had seen the mind and the heart of Ben Solo which made her whole being tingle with joy. She had also seen his future as he was lying dead in a pool of dark-red blood.

x X x

 **4.**

 _We make choices. No one else can live our lives for us. And we must confront and accept the consequences of our actions._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

There was nobody on board of the _Supremacy_ who could remember to have ever seen the Supreme Leader truly smile. An occasional scornful smirk, perhaps, or that kind of smile that made one's blood freeze. Could they have seen him now, they might not have recognised him, because he was smiling as if he were the happiest man in all the galaxies.

In many ways, he was. For the first time in years and years, his whole life perhaps, he knew with clarity what he had to do, and even though he was aware of the consequences – he had seen them reflected in Rey's mind as much as in her eyes – he found he was quite willing to face them. What had his mother said? Freedom and justice were worth dying for? She had been right. But then, she had been right about many things, even about him.

He had failed her trust in her son. He was not going to fail Rey's, the first – the best – the _only_ real friend he'd ever had. For some reason, she had seen something in him that he had believed not only lost but dead, she had believed in it, had believed in _him_ , in Ben Solo; he had let her down, but she had not stopped believing and he would prove himself worthy of her trust. He had lived a wasted life, but he would die as the man that he was born to be.

x X x

 **5.**

Rey was beyond despair. She had lost her parents. She had lost Han Solo, she had lost Leia, she had lost Luke Skywalker, each of these losses had mirrored that first one in its pain. This, however, was far, far worse. This felt not like losing one's family once over, this felt like losing herself.

'Please, Ben, come away with me!' she beseeched him as soon as she had collected herself enough to make the connection. 'Maybe I was mistaken, maybe we can outrun it. I _beg_ you, come with me!'

He was at a loss how to answer as her eyes implored him even more than her actual words. 'I can't,' he managed at last. 'You know I can't.'

She started to shake her head frantically, as much to check the rising tears as to shake off the horrible memory of a future that contained him lying dead in his own blood. He caught her face between his hands. 'Rey! Please, Rey, don't – you mustn't –'

The feeling of calm certainty that ran through him spread to her and calmed her a little. She leant against his hands, imbibing that tranquillity, and whispered, 'You _are_ Ben Solo.'

'Yes. Yes, I am.' He gave her a smile. 'Aren't you a little smug that you were right after all?'

'I didn't want to be right like _this_.'

"I know. But you see, I _am_ my parents' son. My mother never ran away from anything, and my father always wanted to, then turned around in the last minute. I cannot run away, as much as I'd want to.'

'But you'll die!'

'Maybe. But it's the least I can do to atone for what I have done.'

'There's no _maybe_ about it! I – I _saw_ it! I saw you dead!'

'Ah, but then these things are never _quite_ certain, are they?'

'You promised! You _promised_ me we'd always have this!'

'I'll come back to haunt you.' He winked at her. 'I'll make an excellent ghost, I'm sure.'

'Ben, _please_ –'

'Remember that row we had? How you said you could not stop fighting for what you knew to be right, even at the risk of being killed, and that you were a hundred percent sure? And how you thought I'd do the same, even if I was only ninety? You were right. And I'm one hundred percent sure now.'

x X x

 **6.**

Chief engineer Nute Garr had been slightly disturbed by his first encounter with the Supreme Leader. He vaguely sensed that the Supreme Leader was not entirely happy with the Ionator, but Garr – who had spent the last ten years devoting his heart and soul to this project, had been inconsolable when the Starkiller Base developers had beaten him and his team to the completion of the ultimate weapon – couldn't really see why. Sure, there were still some kinks to eliminate, but there always were. The entire advancement of technology depended on the principle of solving problems one's predecessors hadn't been able to master.

So when he was called back to see the man, Garr simply assumed – not entirely wrongly – that the Supreme Leader merely wanted a better understanding of what they had accomplished in order to fully appreciate this marvel. He was more than happy to let him pick his brains, even when it turned out that he wanted to do that _literally_.

It was a very strange feeling to have somebody else rummaging through one's brain, Garr found, while being quite flattered at the same time. He wasn't accustomed to people outside of his area of expertise to take much interest. In fact, he was the sort of person that people invariably fled from when he talked to them at parties.

After what seemed like hours, the Supreme Leader withdrew with a frustrated expression. Now _that_ was something Garr recognised. He'd seen it before often enough.

"Just tell me," the man said tiredly with a strange movement of his hand, "how can it be destroyed?"

"It can't be."

"It's a sophisticated piece of technology; usually it takes a mere grain of sand to upset one of those. _Tell me!_ "

"It can't be destroyed, Supreme Leader. It can only destroy itself, so to speak."

"Well, that's a start. Go on."

The engineer was pleased as punch. "You see – any actual attempt to attack it would trigger not only its own destruction, but everything within a range of – approximately – fifty million miles, give or take, including the attacker, Supreme Leader. It's part of its security system."

The Supreme Leader goggled at him. " _Security_ system," he echoed weakly.

"Yes, you see –"

"No! No. Just show me what _exactly_ it would take to blow the whole thing up for good."

x X x

 **7.**

 _We do what we do because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves._

 _DREAM – Sandman_

"He is Ben Solo," Rose heard Rey murmur when she found her an hour later, slumped on the floor of her storeroom once more.

"I'm sorry?"

"He is Ben Solo."

Yes, that was what Rose had heard, but it didn't make any more sense only because it was repeated. As a matter of fact, she had come down here to ask the other woman's opinion on an idea she had had how to fix the hyperdrive, but seeing her friend looking as shell-shocked as she did, she instantly forgot all about that and knelt down beside her.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently, ready to pretend she didn't see the tears if Rey'd rather not talk about it.

Rey turned her head and squinted at her as if she noticed her only now. "No. _No_ , I'm _not_ okay. I – I've seen his _heart_ , Rose, and it's – _beautiful_ …"

Rose was deeply embarrassed, but in for a screwdriver, in for an impact drill! "Yes…?"

"I've seen his future, too. He – he'll –" Her voice cracked.

Rose quickly calculated. After the statement about 'his beautiful heart', it was unlikely that the next thing to follow would be 'he'll murder us all', right? "He'll…?" she prompted carefully.

"He'll die!"

Oh. Oh dear.

"I – I hoped for this _so much_ , I hoped sooner or later he _must_ realise who he really is – and then he does – only to – only to…" She shook herself, suddenly bursting forth, "Did I tell you why he made me crash on that darned honey planet –"

"He did what?!"

"He wanted to _save_ me! I said I wouldn't stop fighting, and he said he couldn't protect me if I didn't, but I said I would anyway, and so he crashed my ship so that I couldn't go on, and now, now he expects me to just sit still and accept that _he'll_ die – he'll _die_ , Rose! I've seen it! And I can't – I _can't_ – I don't see how I can prevent it, but I can't –"

"Shhhh," Rose made, trying not to let her alarm show. She hadn't known the other woman for long, but Rey was the last person she would have expected to become hysteric; it was deeply disturbing. She awkwardly put an arm around her shaking shoulders, and repeated, "Shhhh, Rey. It's – well, I wish I could tell you it'll be okay, but I haven't got a clue how these Force visions work, so… At any rate, you're not helping him when you lose your head now."

"But – but –"

In a rather desperate attempt to say anything, Rose said the first thing that went through her head. "Did I ever tell you about my sister? About my Pae-Pae? She – I don't know if you actually know that, but she was killed during the attack on the _Fulminatrix_ …" She could see that Rey didn't understand a word she was saying, so she gave a short summary of that ill-fated night, involuntarily choking up when she came to Paige's actual death.

"She wasn't just my big sister, she was my heroine. She was brave and determined and she always watched out for me. I'm – well, you know me, I'm not… I'm nothing like her. And every now and then I wake up in the middle of the night, thinking she must not be dead, and that she left me behind, and that I so _wish_ she had just – just walked away from it all, instead of dying a heroic death. But then, she wouldn't have been her, you see? My sister, my Pae-Pae, would _never_ have given up, that's one of the reasons I admired her so. And she always said, we got to fight for what we love, Rosie, and in the end, she died for what she loved, too. That dreadnought was ready to destroy the _Raddus_ – with her little sister on board, and once again, like always, she came through and saved me."

Rey gazed back at her in a blend of surprise, movement and humility. No, she hadn't known that. She was very fond of Rose and got along very well with her, yet she'd never asked her about herself, which wasn't just a bloody shame, but also _stupid_ , because she had sensed that behind that quiet, self-effacing, clumsy façade was a smart, even wise woman, that might not talk a lot – but instead listened, and made sense of things that seemed inherently senseless.

"Your sister wasn't just your heroine," she said quietly, "she was _the_ heroine. She saved the entire Resistance."

"Yes, well, she did. If only for a day."

"But you're still here. We're still here. The spark of hope is still alive."

Rose smiled through cloudy eyes. "Yes. And from what I hear, we have a new member, haven't we? I heard General Organa's son is going to join."

x X x

 **8\. His Last Lesson**

" _Maybe it's all part of a great big ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire. And don't bother to answer. If we could understand, we wouldn't be us. Because it's all — all —"_

 _INEFFABLE, said the figure feeding the ducks._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT/NEIL GAIMAN – Good Omens_

Ben Solo was just about to go to bed when he saw a bluish radiance emerge in a corner of his room, which turned out to be the ghost of his uncle – his _real_ ghost, this time.

He was startled for a second, then put his hands together in the Jedi fashion and bowed his head as a greeting.

'I see you have completed your training,' his old master greeted him in return, mirroring the gesture. 'And all the better for my lack of meddling.'

Another bow, not of respect this time but of contrition. "I am sorry, Master."

'So am I, as you know. But let us look on the bright side – it was time for the Jedi to end, we only got it half right. Like this, you and Rey have become more powerful than I could ever have dreamt of, and can start something new, something better.'

"I know she will."

'You're still wondering about that connection between you and her, aren't you?'

"Yes."

'Like you, I was intrigued how she could rise so fast – until I realised it's _because_ of your connection. When push comes to shove, she knows what you know – and vice versa. Your powers and knowledge inform each other.'

Ben needn't cogitate on this, he instantly knew his uncle was right. "Yes."

'Yes, I thought you had guessed as much. The crucial question is rather _why_ would the Force connect you, isn't it?'

"Snoke claimed he had done it –"

'And you already know he always was a liar. And a masterful manipulator – he sensed it before anyone, before you two yourselves became aware of it even. And he understood the danger to him as well as how to use it to his own advantage, or so he thought.' The ghost grinned. 'You've made your grandfather very proud, by the way.'

Ben lowered his gaze. "And blew it all ten minutes later."

'Oh well. He knows all about really blowing it, too. It was said of your grandfather that he would bring balance to the Force, and vanquish the Sith. Back then, nobody bothered to wonder how that should work out – because it's one _or_ the other, isn't it? I have no love for the Sith, but they had some insights worth dwelling on all the same. Like the acceptance of _all_ emotions, not just the happy ones, or the Rule of Two, they got that one half-right. _Everything_ is made of two halves, light and dark, life and death. They got it wrong in so far as thinking it must be a master and his apprentice though. At any rate, Anakin Skywalker vanquished the Sith, and what looked like glorious victory really brought the Force out of balance. But he also planted the seed to bring it back; eventually _you_ were born and you'll finish what your grandfather started – you will restore the balance. Not alone though. It can't be done alone. It takes two halves to make one unity.'

He raised his eyes and gave his old master an imploring look. 'You will look after her, won't you?'

Luke grinned. 'I'd say the girl is quite capable to look after herself.'

'You know what I mean. Don't leave her alone. She's afraid of being left alone.'

The grin became even wider. 'You can do that yourself, Ben. She doesn't need _me_.'

Ben thought he understood and nodded. 'What other advice can you give me, Master?'

'None whatsoever, kid. It seems you figured it all out splendidly on your own. And quit that 'master' nonsense.'

'Thank you. _Luke_.'

x X x

 **9.**

 _We cannot evade our responsibilities. That which is dreamed can never be lost, can never be un-dreamed._

 _MASTER LI – Sandman_

During the next days, Ben Solo was awfully busy. Day or night, he commanded hundreds of people to his office, probed their minds and explored if they were – _amenable_. If they were, and if they were soldiers or members of staff, he used the old Jedi trick to manipulate their minds. It was basically a variant of good old Order 66. 'If you receive this signal -'

If they were civilians and otherwise qualified, he indoctrinated them with what he expected of them in their respective jobs, be they lawmakers, or chiefs of police, or simple bureaucrats. He also tried to make sure that his recent appointees in the different administrative departments on their respective homeworlds were firmly established and had an unmistakably clear idea of what their jobs were and how to proceed in a possible time of crisis. Rulers and governments come and go – but proper administration _sticks_. He was fairly confident they'd manage; he had picked an excellent bunch. Level-headed, unsentimental, absolutely incorruptible and possessed by such high moral standards that not even Leia Organa Solo would have found them wanting.

x X x

 **10\. Hux Prepares For A Promotion**

 _I started my life with a single absolute: that the world was mine to shape in the image of my highest values and never to be given up to a lesser standard, no matter how long or hard the struggle._

 _DAGNY TAGGART – Atlas Shrugged_

Armitage Hux found himself in a very strange frame of mind. His five days of actual leadership had exhilarated him more than anything he had ever experienced, while the loss of Captain Phasma affected him more than expected. A kind of mania had taken hold of him, perhaps enhanced by the painkillers he took, making him daydream of his future – a glorious future in which he was the Supreme Leader of the galaxy, of course.

He would be greater than even his loathed father. As a child, he had never been more than General Hux's bastard. He had worked hard to shed that slur – and become 'General Hux's son'. But soon, they would say of the late general that he had been Armitage Hux's father.

Unbidden ideas for a new uniform befitting that role came to his head, he tried out new titles (Supreme Leader had such a mundane ring to it) and wondered which planet he should designate as his capital. Armitage Hux had tasted blood and he wanted much, much more of it.

Yes, there had been that slight drawback of Ren actually coming back, a little battered maybe, but tanned and in a better mood than Hux had ever seen him in (so apparently Phasma had been right, that reckless slacker had taken a few days of for getting laid!), so chirpy in fact that he had exchanged his black armour for a dark grey one, and thrown himself into his work, filling vacant positions in jobs that Hux hadn't known to exist and passing laws whose possible necessity his general hadn't yet considered either, such as prohibitions of usury or any attempts (future or already existing) to privatise or tax water or air.

Hux rubbed his hands, glad that he wouldn't have to bother with these things after overthrowing Ren. For this purpose, he had assembled three squads of Stormtroopers from the _Harbinger_ – men that Ren had never seen nor, more importantly, talked to and could impossibly have tempered with. Each of them was a master marksman trained with a rather unusual weapon: a bowcaster, to be precise – the one weapon that Hux knew for a fact Ren wasn't immune to. It might not be enough to kill him, sure, but a good deterrent all the same.

He would wait until his ribs stopped aching, and then he'd have a little talk with Ren about the other thing Sub-Lieutenant Pyter had scorned his captors with.

x X x

 **11.**

 _He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same._

 _CATHERINE EARNSHAW – Wuthering Heights_

It was a terrible time for Rey. At the horizon somewhere lurked the death of Ben Solo which in spite of her best efforts to be philosophical, she dreaded and mourned. And directly before her stood her friends, who (with the exception of Rose) did not, could not sympathize. They didn't even believe her.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Poe declared. "Until then I stand by my opinion that Kylo Ren is an evil bastard – pardon my Aqualish, General Organa."

Finn was even less of a help. He was honestly convinced that Kylo Ren had used his command of the Force in order to brainwash Rey and expressed this opinion at every opportunity. Rey's vexed protests were just further proof to him that he was right, and by now, he had picked up on Rose's and Poe's idea of some sort of romance between his darling Rey and 'the monster', which made him yet more anxious and caustic.

"I told you ten times, I told you twenty – it's not like that. I'm _not_ telling you again," she spat and like usual went to hide in her storeroom.

She needn't even think about the preposterousness of this particular accusation. She had never been in love herself, but her abilities with the Force allowed her some insight to recognise that feeling in others. Therefore she knew that Finn was infatuated with her, and that his feelings for her had no resemblance to hers regarding Ben Solo. She knew that Rose had a crush on Finn, but that feeling didn't match Rey's feelings either. And then, there was Poe of course, who fancied any female coming his way, as she had noticed even during her short stays on D'Qar and Takodana.

No, it wasn't like that. Her affection for Ben had nothing of Finn's determinate blindness, nothing of Rose's sad resignation, none of Poe's indiscriminate lewdness. He was simply like her other half, but she was getting tired of trying to explain what they refused to understand.

x X x

 **12.**

 _Plan A had worked. Plan B had failed. Everything depended on Plan C, and there was one drawback to this:  
he had only ever planned as far as B._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT/NEIL GAIMAN – Good Omens_

Chief engineer Garr had finally found someone who never tired of his company – the Supreme Leader himself came to see him every night, for hours, to brood over the plans of the Ionator and the _Supremacy_ itself. He wanted to know _everything_. It was clearly some hush-hush super top-secret matter, because the Supreme Leader always insisted to wipe most of Garr's recollections of these meetings, which might go a long way to explain why he didn't register his interlocuter's irritation with him (but then again, Garr was the kind of overly intelligent person who needed such things spelled out to him).

And Ben _was_ irritated. Not only with Garr, a man who didn't find it at all strange to have mass destruction at his finger tips and had dedicated his life to perfect it even more, but also with the sheer bloody facts themselves.

He drew heavily on Rey's technical knowledge to make sense of the plans, thus realising that his entire idea was impossible to pull off. The smallest fighter available was 3m24 – but the channels it needed to fly through were at some points only 2m60. He couldn't use any other means of transport, because those would be far too slow, and as soon as passing a certain point, all alarms (which could not be disabled, they were built into the bloody thing itself) would go off – and bring every defensive pilot on board into the arena. He had tried to defuse them by means of the Force, but there were just too many of them, and some in addition too resilient to effectively reprogram them. So there was no way around utilising a TIE-fighter, and the only way to get that one through the Ionator's cooling system was to blow it up before flying through.

Ben Solo wasn't cursed with false modesty; he knew he was a brilliant pilot and a master marksman, but not even he could count on demolishing a narrow passage within a ship in such a precise manner that would allow him to pass it a split second later. And unfortunately, that passage came _before_ that point of no return that would ignite the Ionator's autodestruct mechanism.

But he knew someone whose flying skills far outclassed even those of the son of Han Solo, didn't he? He had met the man only twice, but he knew if anyone could do it, it must be Poe Dameron. But getting the plans to that one led to a whole new set of problems, while in the meantime, the _Millennium Falcon's_ provisions of oxygen were running lower and lower, and General Hux itched to annihilate another planet. He had received intelligence that friends of said Poe Dameron were currently located on Ganthel (population: four _billion_ ), and while his superior had really put his foot down on the planned attack, he really wouldn't put it past his general to order an attack behind his back all the same.

Once again, he visited the Communications Department. He sent Sub-Lieutenant Nath as well as Bixby and Snaps on useless errands in order to talk to Udu-u in private, then asked the boy quite directly if it was possible to transmit 30 TB worth of classified data without anyone noticing. It was visible just how much Udu-u wanted to comply – yet couldn't. If only the Communications Department had been involved, it would have been possible to send it in much smaller packages – but all classified data was additionally controlled by the Department of Internal Security.

"I think I can manage _them_ ," Ben murmured, more to himself, but saw Udu-u shaking his head mournfully.

The staff handling such sensitive information worked with autonomous work stations that weren't connected to any outside channels. As soon as tapping one of those and extracting classified information from the system, an alarm went off that could not be controlled as it was played back to the Department of Internal Security, where not only the staff received it but another computer whose security codes could _not_ be manipulated either – it _could not_ be done.

What if someone physically transported a chip? Like, stole it and flew off –

Again, Udu-u was visibly disconcerted to be a spoilsport. Apparently, there wouldn't even be enough time (ten minutes at the most) to make if off the _Supremacy_ before all hell broke loose, and if there was any reason to believe that sensitive data had been taken off the ship itself, all security codes would be changed within another ten. Ben skimmed the 'Serious data breach protocol' that Udu-u showed him with a feeling of growing dread. The kid was right. _It could not be done._

He had one more clandestine task for the boy before leaving, nothing dangerous, not even prohibited, but Ben wouldn't have known how to do it himself. Udu-u radiated with pride and glee to be of some assistance after all.

"FN-2187. Got it. I'm so sorry I can't help you more, sir –"

"Don't worry, you have been an enormous help already. Also, I just had yet another idea."

"I may be able to help you with that, though!"

"No, you couldn't. It's got nothing to do with technology."

x X x

 **13.**

 _I am warmed by  
Your friendship  
Even when you're far away…_

 _I will thank you  
Most of all for  
The respect you have for me  
I'm embarrassed  
It overwhelms me  
Because I don't deserve any_

 _It doesn't matter  
If this all shatters  
Nothing lasts forever_

 _DEPECHE MODE – It doesn't matter_

Captain Phasma's death had affected her men very strongly – and left a sort of vacancy in their loyalties. Accordingly, Ben hadn't much difficulties to find a couple of extremely able-bodied Stormtroopers willing to do his bidding outside of the usual protocol. He had probed their minds, of course, found them pleasantly disaffected with General Hux as well as unflappable and smart, and appointed them as his personal guard.

"I think it looks more appropriate for my position," he answered Hux' questioning frown.

"I think it looked more impressive when you still appeared capable to look after yourself. Supreme Leader, sir," the General retorted almost challengingly.

Ben marvelled at him, wondering if the man actually _enjoyed_ the retribution he inevitably reaped for remarks like this, or he couldn't account for the sheer stubbornness.

"Don't worry, General. I _am_ capable of that," he said and with a flick of his finger pulled Hux's cap down over his eyes until the top burst and Hux was stuck.

Of course he didn't need them for protection –what could two Stormtroopers do against a serious assault after all that he couldn't do himself? But they sufficed to keep people from bursting into his office at inappropriate times, or wherever else he went and did not wish to be disturbed. Because outside of priming his subordinates, he was busy day and night with practise to prepare himself for the by far hardest task, the one achievement all the rest relied on in order to work out. It would in all probability kill him, but hopefully not before he hadn't accomplished his purpose.

He was in Nute Garr's lab again that day, making notes, when his communicator flashed up. 'URGENT – TELL THOSE WRAIDS TO LET ME IN! U'. He dropped his pen and did so, thus barely saving Udu-u from getting his ass handed to him by the two Stormtroopers.

"They're coming," the kid wheezed, terror oozing out of every pore, "whatever it is you're doing, you must get away!"

"Who is coming?"

"Hux, of course!"

Okay. Ben had not reckoned with this. He could only hope that for once, he wouldn't blunder when facing a situation he couldn't think through from a to z.

"Calm down," he said. " _You_ must get away. Barricade the door from the outside as good as you can, then beat it. Got me?"

"What about you!"

"Don't worry."

"And what about _him_?!" Udu-u beckoned at chief engineer Garr who had followed this scene slack-jawed and with bated breath.

Ben lifted his hand and made a little wave that rendered the man unconscious, then shot Udu-u a little grin. "See? Not to worry. Now show me which button to push to download _everything_ on this computer, then take care of that door and get lost, will you!"

When he eventually pocketed the little chip, weighing it in his hand for a second and finding it no more substantial than a conjurer's coin, Ben faintly wondered that such a tiny thing should cost him his life.

He settled on the floor and tried to relax as much as he possibly could under these circumstances. He reached out to immerse himself in the Force as Rey had taught him, as he had practised all during the previous days, and then he went that one final step further.

Rey smiled brightly when seeing him appear in front of her, but faltered when spotting his deadly pale face and did not even notice that for once, everyone else seemed to be able to see him as well, jumping to their feet and grabbing whatever weapon was in their reach. He advanced without any preliminaries, snatched her fingers and pushed the chip into her hands.

There was an eruption shaking the entire ship which swiftly diverted Poe's attention as he checked his controls for the source of the apparent attack, but finding nothing.

"These are the plans for the _Supremacy_ , maps, charts and all. Analyse them and you will find her one pivotal weakness. Use her security codes to capture a First Order ship – do not use the _Millennium Falcon_ , she's far too big and couldn't get through the security and also her hyperdrive cannot be trusted – put a missile in the Ionator and get the hell out again at light speed. Within sixty seconds after hitting her, you must be at least a hundred million miles away, do you hear me?"

He bored his eyes into hers and pressed her hands even tighter, making her understand without further need for words. All he had loudly said before was for the benefit of her friends' rather than hers.

"But what about you?" she gasped.

"I'll evacuate."

She felt the small chip in the palm of her hand, that tiny proof that he was actually _here_ , not just in her head, not even only a projection – and a projection over such distance had been enough to kill Luke Skywalker, Jedi master. She didn't need her books to tell her that actual teleportation was far, far worse; one look at him was enough. His skin had the colour of snow and felt just as cold, enhancing the blackness of his eyes which were glazed by fever.

"This is killing you!"

"It hasn't killed me yet."

"Come on, sit down for a start, maybe I can somehow –"

"I've got to get back, Rey."

"What?!"

"They will know I stole the plans. If they can't find me anywhere, they'll know they're no longer on the ship and change all the security codes, and then, it'll all be for nothing."

He clung to her hands like dear life, not only because he was almost too weak to stand, or because he felt strangely re-energised by her touch, but because this was likely their last goodbye. Not letting go, he tore himself away from her gaze and turned to Poe, who was still pointing his blaster at him more or less point blank. "I know you think this is a trap. It is not. Ask _her_ , she can see my mind and anything that's in it. And you –" He looked at Finn, for once not hateful but almost imploring. "I have something for you. I had the records checked. Your real name – it is Kiquirus Buameo, and you're from Exodeen. Your parents didn't sell you, they just died in an epidemic, and since the orphanage couldn't handle so many children all at once, they gave you and some thousand others away to the First Order. Take care – take good care, will you?"

"Master Ben!" an urgent, metallic cry resounded and a second later, C-3PO burst into the cockpit as if he had never shut down. His face wasn't built to show emotion, but his entire posture conveyed excitement and joy. His appearance lit up the sallow face of their strange visitor, and in this moment, Poe did see Leia's son indeed.

"Threepio!" Ben answered with equal affection in his voice. He extracted one hand from Rey and made a weird gesture, touching his nose, pulling his ear and drawing a circle with his index finger in the air, a gesture that the golden droid mirrored exactly (even without possessing actual ears). However, this unexpected reunion with his old nanny emboldened Ben to look over towards the towering figure he hadn't dared to acknowledge yet. He bowed his head and muttered quietly and in Shyriiwook, 'Chewie…'

The Wookiee gave no kind of reply, he merely stared back at him unfathomably. Ben turned back to Rey and gave her one last, long look. 'It's going to come alright. And just in case this really is goodbye – it was a pleasure and a privilege getting to know you, Rey from Jakku.'

'This isn't goodbye!'

'It might –'

' _No!_ I will know when it is time and I _will_ be there, then!'

He smiled at her stubbornness and pressed her hands once more with all the strength he had left.

A second later, he was gone.

x X x


	12. The Death of Ben Solo

**XII. THE DEATH OF BEN SOLO**

 _When that last hour arrives, that none,  
However shrewd, may miss,  
A noble spirit serves his kind,  
And death itself is bliss.'_

 _PANCHATANTRA – The Loss of Friends_

* * *

 **1.**

 _All your life, you have heard yourself denounced, not for your faults, but for your greatest virtues. You have been hated, not for your mistakes, but for your achievements. You have been scorned for all those qualities of character which are your highest pride. You have been called selfish for the courage of acting on your own judgment and bearing sole responsibility for your own life. You have been called arrogant for your independent mind. You have been called cruel for your unyielding integrity. You have been called anti-social for the vision that made you venture upon undiscovered roads. You have been called ruthless for the strength and self-discipline of your drive to your purpose. You have been called greedy for the magnificence of your power to create wealth. You, who've expended an inconceivable flow of energy, have been called a parasite. You, who've created abundance where there had been nothing but wastelands and helpless, starving men before you, have been called a robber. You, who've kept them all alive, have been called an exploiter. You, the purest and most moral man among them, have been sneered at as a 'vulgar materialist.' Have you stopped to ask them: by what right?—by what code?—by what standard?_

 _FRANCISCO D'ANCONIA – Atlas Shrugged_

That morning, General Hux had woken up and experienced no pain when drawing breath, which he decided was a good omen. It was finally time to take care of his predecessor, so he called for his specially armed Stormtroopers and stalked to the man's office in state, only to find he wasn't there. Undaunted, they next paid a visit to Ren's quarters but he wasn't there either, which put a little damper on the general's excitement. Since the prat had disabled Hux's means to locate him, he was shortly at a loss how to find him on a ship as large as the _Supremacy_ , when the had the brilliant idea – Ren might not be located by the usual means, but his newly appointed body guards surely were. Oh yes, they were.

Hux felt a little quiver of concern seeing where his opponent in fact was (what was the idiot up to now?!), but it didn't matter. He led his special forces down to the laboratories, one door of which was secured by that ridiculous Stormtrooper guard. These two stated their directive to allow _no one_ in and had to find that they were no match to the fire out of thirty bowcasters tearing them to pieces in the next second. The door, however, didn't answer as immediately to the use of brute force; it took a small battering ram and ten solid minutes to pry it open under the general's increasingly impatient scowls.

Inside, they saw both the chief engineer and Ren lying on the floor, the latter twisted, pale, motionless – for a couple of seconds Hux wondered if he was dead, which would relieve him of a _bunch_ of problems – but the Stormtrooper checking his vital signs shattered that hope. He was merely unconscious. Fair enough. Two soldiers dragged him up and out. In the elevator, Ren regained consciousness and tried to shake his wards off, without much avail though. He could still barely stand.

Through clenched teeth, he gnarled, "General Hux, I _order_ you to order these men –"

"You'll order nobody ever again, Ren. In fact you are under arrest."

"For what!"

"High treason, of course," Hux spat, and when Ren made no attempt to answer, "You don't even bother to deny it?"

"You and I have very different ideas what constitutes treason, you rat," he retorted with as much venom as his shaky voice allowed.

" _You're_ calling _me_ a _rat_?!"

"Would you rather I'd call you a bastard?"

Hux's face was flushed with rage, but he forced himself to remain calm. "I can prove you stole the plans to this ship including all classified information pertaining to the Ionator."

"Did I? Where are they, then?"

"That's the point _exactly_. You have them no more, not on your person, not in your rooms. Ergo you have passed them on to someone. Don't worry, I'll soon figure out who. And there's something else, isn't there?"

"You tell me."

The general grinned coldly. "It wasn't that girl who murdered the Supreme Leader. It was you."

"Oh yes?"

"And I have a squad of Stormtroopers who can testify to that."

"Stormtroopers. Uhu. I wonder where _they_ were when their leader was killed."

"Never mind that. Combined with your latest act of treachery, it'll hold."

Ben hesitated for a second, then realised that he wouldn't be able to talk himself out of this, no matter what. He smiled with that somewhat liberating thought. "I murdered a lot of people. Snoke is the only one I'm proud of."

Hux' face turned another interesting shade of crimson, but before he could find a suitably scandalised reply, Ben added lightly, "Come, less of the outrage, Hux. It's not so different after all from what you did to your own father, back then. Or Captain Phasma. Why did you kill her, incidentally?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ren," Hux said through gritted teeth.

"My name is Ben Solo," his prisoner replied just when the elevator had arrived at its destination. It vaguely amazed him to see that this should be one of the hangars, but he soon enough saw the impeccable logic when he found himself pushed between the muzzles of two TIE-fighters. If you can't trust a man to be killed by blaster-fire, try some bigger gun. Hux was after all a pragmatist.

x X x

 **2.**

 _Patience and shuffle the cards._

 _MIGUEL DE CERVANTES – Don Quixote_

"Hurry up," she cried, "I _know_ he's still alive, we must get there at once –"

Poe remained unflappable. They were already much further than he would have believed in his most hopeful dreams. Using the information about the _Supremacy_ to forge her command codes and using those in turn, they had localised the _Finalizer_ and sent an evacuation order to her. Once she was abandoned, they'd commandeer her and progress with part two of this elaborate little ploy. It wouldn't do though to rush. They had to wait for the last personnel to leave the _Finalizer_ , or she'd simply bomb them out of the skies.

Had someone told him he'd ever fly an attack on the _Supremacy_ based on information hand-delivered by _Kylo Ren_ , he'd have recommended them to get their head checked. Yet here they were, the last of the Resistance, doing exactly that. He even believed that it might actually work. Why? He couldn't rightfully say. For one, he trusted Rey's instincts, muddled and misguided as some of them clearly were. Poe didn't understand the Force and took only little interest in it. He recognised its usefulness though.

Secondly, Ren's appearance had made an undeniable impression on him. It had taken some guts – and much, much more, if his complexion was anything to go by, and according to Rey, who could actually _feel_ the toll it had taken out of him. All of them had been able to see it, simply by looking at her sheet-white countenance, her trembling, bloodless lips. Speaking of the Force and its mysterious ways – if this was what it did to you, Poe was grateful that he had no part in it. He shuddered with the mere thought.

Thirdly – speaking of Kylo Ren, Poe was reminded of the man's formidable mother, whom he had admired and trusted to the end of the galaxy and beyond. What would General Leia Organa have done? Struggling with his new responsibilities, this question had been his guiding principle, and he followed it now. Leia had believed in her son almost to the end. He was sure she would have trusted him on this, too. So would Poe, despite everything. How had Leia always told him?

"Hope is like the sun," he repeated under his breath. "If you only believe in it when you see it, you'll never make it through the night."

Rey nodded slowly.

On his monitors, he saw the last escape pod sailing out of the _Finalizer_ , and once more radioed her to be sure. Yup, she was empty. Time for part two.

x X x

 **3.**

If there was one thing in the galaxy that Sub-Lieutenant Egolu could not resist, it was Aihwa-stew, because it reminded him of his grandmother (even if the _Finalizer's_ mess standards couldn't hold a candle to Gramma Egolu's recipe, of course). Unfortunately, the one thing his adult body could not withstand was also Aihwa-stew. When the evacuation alert resounded, he was in the bathroom, needing two receptacles at once, and scarcely registering for perhaps ten minutes what was even going on. Eventually, his pains lessened and he realised that the alarm wasn't a simple fire drill. – Oh sh- Shiraya. Hurriedly, he buttoned up his uniform, washed his hands, threw some water into his face that looked like warmed-up death and ran out.

There was nobody else though. _Nobody_. Out of the more than eighty-thousand soldiers on this vessel, only Sub-Lieutenant Egolu appeared to be left (he had sudden visions in his head what his superior Captain Moggs was going to make of this – Moggs was one sarcastic prat at the best of times, and Sub-Lieutenant Egolu his favourite target) and strayed helplessly through the corridors of the still unfamiliar ship. To his greatest relief though, he suddenly did hear footsteps, fast, purposeful. So he _wasn't_ the only one, Shiraya be praised –

"It's right along here," he heard a male voice from around a corner.

"Yes, yes. Now get back to the _Falcon_ and take off!"

"No need to hurry, it'll take Poe at least ten minutes to get the TIE-fighter prepared."

"If you're trying to calm me, I have to tell you it's not working, Finn!"

Egolu was frowning in confusion when he saw four people skid around the corner, a man in a leather jacket, two females and a golden droid. Civilians. No. One of the women was wearing a Resistance-style jumpsuit. Egolu's hand reached for his blaster – fumbled – fumbled some more until he realised he had dropped it on the bathroom floor. At the same time two of the intruders produced theirs without hesitation, the third wielded a quarterstaff with – lightsabres?! – at its ends.

He raised his hands in surrender. This day was getting worse by the minute.

"What shall we do with him?" the woman in the jumpsuit asked.

"Tie him up somewhere?"

The other woman shook her head impatiently and Egolu thought he was done for.

"We haven't got the time for this." She stepped forth, Egolu closed his eyes for the kill, then found himself dragged along by his elbow. "Finn, get back, and _please_ hurry up, will you? He's not dead yet, but something's happened, I can feel it. I know you don't care, but I do and –"

Rose was deeply impressed by Finn's reassuring expression as he said with only the faintest tremble in his voice, "Don't worry, Rey. We'll do all we can and more."

Egolu experienced the next shock. _Rey_. He knew the name, and now that he came to think of it, he also recognised the face. A drawing of her was on every Wanted (ALIVE!)-poster for having killed the Supreme Leader. Oh Shiraya, he was dead. Dead. Dead.

Accompanied by the droid, the two women hustled him along and onto the bridge – where they were welcomed by rapid blasterfire once they were through the door. The women dropped his arms and went for cover, but Egolu was too shocked for any response, neither did he throw himself on the floor nor did he try to make an escape, and next thing, he was hit in the right shoulder and went down after all.

Rey used her staff to deflect the blasts, while Rose proved to be an amazingly good shot and took the two remaining officers out. She checked and found the man in the Captain's uniform dead, the other heavily injured, and turned around in dismay to Rey, who was checking on their prisoner. To Rose's surprise, Rey pressed her hand onto the man's shoulder with a look of deep concentration, then made some strange gesture which seemed to render him unconscious as she dragged him into a corner.

"He'll be right as rain," she gnarled coming over and examined the Captain's adjutant, who was still breathing, but only just so. "Not sure about this one though."

"What are you doing?"

"Using the Force to heal them. It's a trick Ben showed me."

"It's amazing," Rose whispered, deeply impressed seeing the wound in the man's chest closing as Rey's hand hovered over it. " _You_ are _amazing_."

Rey shook her head. "No, I'm not. It's the Force – and I did nothing to achieve it, it came to me by itself."

"No, it's more than just the Force. It's the kind of impression you make on people."

"What?"

"You brought Kylo Ren back to the light!"

Rey halted for a minute, then shook her head once more. "No, he did that himself. I just – I don't know, I guess I just _listened_. I got that trick from _you_ , actually."

x X x

 **4\. A Flair For The Dramatic**

 _I need to be cleansed  
It's time to make amends  
For all of the fun  
The damage is done  
And I feel diseased  
I'm down on my knees  
And I need forgiveness  
Someone to bear witness  
To the goodness within  
Beneath the sin…  
And somewhere  
There's someone who cares  
With a heart of gold  
To have and to hold_

 _DEPECHE MODE – To Have and to Hold_

One of General Hux's greatest weaknesses was his penchant for pompousness, Ben reflected, as he was waiting for his execution. He was kneeling between the two TIE-fighters, hands tied behind his head, all the time feeling his strength slowly returning to him. He was still far from fighting fit, sure – but for all he knew, technically he should have been dead by exhaustion already due to the teleportation.

Hux had pined for this moment for far too long not to make a huge scene out of it now his chance had come with all the audience he could get for the occasion. It naturally took a while for all commanding officers and select Stormtroopers to assemble. Then came the obligatory indictment/speech/verdict. It took _ages_.

Of course, Ben had quite a flair for the dramatic himself, so when Hux addressed him, "Kylo Ren, you are guilty of –", he shouted back at him, "My name is Ben Solo, I am the son of General Leia Organa and General Han Solo, heroes of the Rebellion both!"

General Hux was _revolted_ (that was the point, after all – well, one of them; it also felt excellent to say it out loud) and they exchanged a couple of venomous glances, disgusted on Hux's part, challenging on Ben's. Then he smiled, closed his eyes and tuned out of it, in part to recover as much strength as possible, but chiefly to once more talk to Rey.

'Oh thank heavens, you're alive!' she greeted him.

'You sound surprised.'

'I am bloody surprised, and so are you, don't even bother to deny it.' She frowned as she noticed the fetters. 'What happened?'

'You remember that mutiny I once told you about? I'm no longer one step ahead of it.'

She didn't even ask the next logical question but leaped straight to the conclusion. ' _They'll execute you?!_ '

'They want to, but it looks as if I might sooner die of old age. Hux is taking his bloody time. He isn't even through with the list of charges yet.'

'Can you teleport out of it?'

'At this point? No. Can you imagine it took me ten minutes to open the damned manacles? A child with a hairpin could manage sooner than that.'

His attempts at lightness did not distract her. 'You – you must hold out, Ben. Please!'

'Easier said than done. It's not that I actually _want_ to be killed, you know?'

'We're nearly there!'

'Ah, I hadn't thought of that. Well, I guess it's just another way to go.'

'What are you talking about! I'll save you, of course!'

His formerly laconic expression transformed to savageness in the blink of an eye. 'You'll do no such thing, Rey! You'll drop that bomb and get out of here!'

'But –'

'No but!'

' _You_ don't get to decide what I do, Ben Solo! It destroyed me to think the teleportation would kill you, but I didn't know how I could prevent it. _This_ is different!'

'If nothing else, think of your friends, will you! You – _all of you_ – have sixty seconds before it all blows up.'

x X x

 **5\. Poe, Finn And Chewie Do It**

In his plot, Ben had never planned for more than one TIE-fighter to take on the mission – little wonder, after all, he had assumed he would have to do it on his own, and never a team player to begin with. The eight individuals that constituted what was left of the Resistance though were a close-knit team and instantly saw what he had missed, namely that it would take two ships – one to make the decisive shot, the other to watch its back and blast away all the debris that might otherwise endanger the TIE-fighter. After that, Poe would be on his own – but then, the passages would be far too narrow for any other pilot to follow him anyway.

So he and BB-8 had climbed into the smallest fighter they could find (and marvelled only swiftly at the state-of-the-art technology that the First Order could afford), while Chewbacca, Finn and R2-D2 manned the _Falcon_ to follow him. Meanwhile, Rose, Rey and C-3PO would prepare the _Finalizer_ for their getaway – Rose knew enough about destroyers to understand the technics, C-3PO could communicate with the ship, and more importantly, make it communicate with the _Supremacy_ long enough before they were found out.

Finn had suggested that Rey should take his place, thinking she was the better shot due to the Force, but she had declined. Ben's failing health had badly shaken her, she couldn't be sure of her powers – and when – _if_ – he died, she wouldn't forgive herself not to be there.

It worked like a dream without her, too. Between them, R2-D2 and BB-8 had divided which defenders to shoot at and both Finn and Poe were excellent marksmen. Then came the all-deciding bottleneck.

Poe shot four missiles on total and the passage exploded. And as if guided by some higher power, Finn instinctively knew at which pieces of debris he had to shoot so they wouldn't fall onto Poe's fighter.

"Good luck, Commander Dameron," he spoke into his radio.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it, Captain!" came the instant reply as his fighter vanished into a cloud of fire and black smoke.

x X x

 **6.**

 _Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show._

 _TERRY PRATCHETT – Going Postal_

"By the powers invested in me by our Supreme Leader Admiral Snoke I hereby sentence the high traitor to be executed by –"

Hux's next words were drowned out by an alarm indicating a level 5 breach of the _Supremacy's_ defence systems, which prompted pretty much everyone in the hangar to rush out. Some hurried back to their stations to deal with the problem, while an astonishing number headed for every possible means of transportation or if nothing else was close, escape pod, with the single-minded purposefulness of a well-programmed robot. Which was as close to the truth as anything. Most people were susceptible to mind manipulation; now their subconscious was on auto-pilot – 'If you hear the signal, you will make your way to the nearest means of escape, force anyone in your way to accompany you and evacuate at light speed _at once_. And once you're gone, _you will never ever go back_.'

Hux goggled, temporarily thrown, and wondered if it was Ren making use of the Force to somehow cause the alarm; he looked pleased enough. But if he thought he could wriggle out of this using another of his darned tricks, he'd have another think coming.

"Shoot him!" he yelled into his communicator. Had he been able to see into the cockpits of the TIE-fighters, he would have found though that his order wasn't transmitted at all – courtesy of a young technician from the Communications Department called Udu-u that Hux had never heard of nor seen – and when the slightly more alert pilot, who had noticed that something must be wrong with his radio, made visual contact and grasped what he was supposed to do, he found that his radio wasn't the only thing malfunctioning since the other members of the Communications Department had niftily reprogrammed the ship's board computer.

Meanwhile Ben Solo had jumped to his feet and summoned his lightsabre. Hux swivelled around to his special Stormtroopers.

"Shoot him! _Now!_ "

They followed that order to a tee. Hux wasn't even surprised to see Ren managing to dodge a remarkable number of shots, or ward them off with his blade, or stop them in mid-air using one of his Force tricks. He even managed to disarm a couple of soldiers. Still, he couldn't stand up long to the incessant firing out of twenty-five bowcasters. The first strike threw a three-inch hole into his chest, the next hit his thigh and brought him to his knees once more.

Satisfied, Hux saw him dropping his sword – but only to raise his hands and point at him – Hux! Next thing, blue flashes of lightning flew from his fingertips and hit Hux squarely. "This is for my mother, you bastard!" he shouted as more and more blasts struck him and threw him backwards further and further. Yet he kept on shooting those sparks at Hux, electrocuting him at the same rate with which Ben Solo was dying.

x X x

 **7.**

Poe Dameron wasn't called the best pilot of the Resistance for nothing. In fact, he would have said he was the best pilot of his generation, as proven just now. He had invaded the _Supremacy_ using channels that weren't even supposed to be flown through by a TIE-fighter and were at times not more than five inches wider than his flyer on either side. With Chewbacca's and Finn's support, he also managed to dodge or downright bump off every other fighter sent after him until finally hitting the proverbial bull's eye. Twenty-nine seconds later, he was back on the _Finalizer_ and cried, "Now let's get out of here!"

He heard Rose's voice over his ear-piece. "Uhm – there's a slight problem though –"

"Don't tell me the hyperdrive's not working!"

"No – we – we somehow lost Rey."

x X x

 **8.**

 _The only reason people die, is because EVERYONE does it.  
You all just go along with it. It's RUBBISH, death. It's STUPID.  
I don't want nothing to do with it._

 _HOB GADLING – Sandman_

When the first strike had hit Ben, Rey had screamed in pain and doubled over.

Rose had rushed to her side, clueless what had happened and even more alarmed when Rey took the hand away with which she had clasped her chest. There was blood on her fingers – but Rose couldn't spot any on Rey, even when she had dropped to her knees.

Rose had tried to lift her up, thinking she was dying herself as she gasped for breath and braced herself in apparent agony. Then she suddenly became very still, her stricken face changed into a mien of fierce determination as she pushed her friend away.

"I won't let you die, you can just forget about that, Ben Solo," she snarled dangerously, then clambered to sit on the floor, her legs crossed, her bloodied hands folded and her eyes closed. And in the next moment – she was gone.

Rose and C-3PO stared at the empty space and at each other.

x X x

 **9.**

 _If I could have put you in my heart,  
If but I could have wrapped you in myself,  
How glad I should have been!  
And now the chart  
Of memory unrolls again to me  
The course of our journey here, here where we part._

 _D.H. LAWRENCE – The End_

Lying in a pool of his life's blood, he could feel her, hear her, see her even though his vision was fading fast. 'I won't let you die, you can just forget about that, Ben Solo!'

It put a smile on his dead-white face.

'See you on the other side,' he whispered with his last breath. Then he was gone.

x X x

 **10\. Death**

 _Death is a natural part of life.  
Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force._

 _YODA – Revenge of the Sith_

Death had never frightened Ben, even as a child he had accepted it as a natural, necessary part of life. He hadn't wanted to die, no, because you only got to live once while being dead lasted forever, but when death came, he embraced it without rancour.

In life, he hadn't thought much about the whole topic, and only knew what Luke had taught them back then – a lifetime ago – about nobody being ever truly gone, about becoming one with the Force, about powerful Jedi being able to maintain some parts of their former selves even in death. Therefore it didn't come as an awfully big surprise to him when he was welcomed by some embodiment of his mother, smiling at him with that warm, loving smile of hers that he remembered, as she reached out and pulled him in a tight embrace.

'Ama,' he whispered, only to say it once again, because in death, no words were required any longer. He knew she was happy, proud, as well as sad to see him much too soon; he felt her absolute love and forgiveness.

Only then he noticed another presence, of a man whom for the shortest moment he did not recognise before realising that this apparent stranger was his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. He, too, was proud of him, as much as indulgent for knowing only too well each of the traps that his grandson had fallen into.

Lastly – and this _was_ a surprise, because he had never possessed the Force at all – there was his father, who held him just as tightly as his mother had. 'Ada,' Ben burst out to beg his forgiveness, but Han cupped the side of his face as he had done in his last moment with a soft smile. 'I _know_.'

He was as immersed in them as they were in him when something changed, he couldn't have said what, but suddenly, he no longer felt in perfect union with them, and for the first time since dying, he became frightened.

'Darling, don't be afraid. It simply isn't time for you yet,' his mother said, embracing him once more.

x X x


	13. Another Ending

**XIII. ANOTHER ENDING**

* * *

 **1.**

Ben Solo had received the finest education available in the galaxy and as a result occasionally tended to overthink matters. Rey on the other hand hadn't got any formal education at all and relied almost solely on her instincts, prevailing simply because she was too uninformed to know that she couldn't possibly succeed.

She _thought_ that it wasn't possible to travel back in time – but only weeks ago, she had thought it impossible to summon a lightsabre by sheer will power, too, so what did _she_ know?

She simply immersed herself in the Force and with the same bloody-minded stubbornness that had allowed her to call for the ghost of Luke Skywalker, she willed to project herself not only through space _but time_. It wasn't as if she had to go back very far, right? A couple of minutes would suffice. She could manage a couple of minutes, surely.

She blindly fumbled her way forwards before recalling something Maz Kanata had once told her – 'The belonging you seek is ahead. Feel the light, it will guide you.' – she suddenly knew what the wise old woman had actually _meant_ and heeded her advice and then – then she saw the light – saw _him_ – and got there.

No living soul in the hangar but one would ever know what really happened, they had no means to be aware that there had been a short, but oh so crucial rewind in time. They could sense a subtle shift, yes, but ascribed that to the sudden appearance of a young woman dressed in grey rags wielding a staff with two short lightsabres at each end. To say they were flustered would overstate the matter, but the distraction was enough to prevent their next move – the concerted shooting of Ben Solo out of thirty bowcasters. More than half of them shot at her instead, only to find that every single one of them had missed. Those who had kept aim at their original target found to their great consternation that the prisoner dodged their blasts or hurled them back at them with the blade of his light sword or even his _hands_. One shooter though was lucky and struck his target right through the chest. He was awarded only a second of triumph however. The young woman had raised both her arms and made some circular motion with her hands upon which the two TIE-fighters turned away from their intended victim and shot a round of missiles at the Stormtroopers instead.

General Hux's jaw had dropped. Where had _she_ come from?! But he hadn't become a general because he looked good in uniform; he snatched a bowcaster from one of the fallen Stormtroopers, took aim and fired. The young woman didn't flinch, but stopped the blast in mid-air – and another, and another, perhaps a dozen all in all – then flicked her hands with a murderous expression, and each shot flew back at him, hitting his shoulder, his ribs, his abdomen, his crotch, his chest and finally his head.

She raised her staff in a threatening gesture at the few remaining people in the hangar who gawked at her in speechless perplexity.

"This ship is going to blow up any minute. If I were you, I'd try to get off while I still can," she shouted, and without waiting for their reaction pivoted around and ran to Ben who had just so managed to remain on his feet, pressing one fist against the gaping hole in his chest while goggling at her in overwhelmed admiration. He _knew_ he had been dead only minutes ago, that she had wound back the clock somehow and saved his bloody life.

'Not yet. Not _quite_ ,' he heard her voice inside his mind as she threw her arms around him and teleported them both out and onto the _Finalizer_.

"Go, go, go!" she yelled, startling Rose, but not missing her aim. She activated the hyperdrive and they were gone. Two seconds later, the _Supremacy_ , the mightiest battleship the galaxy had ever seen, blew up in a series of spectacularly beautiful explosions that killed any admiring observer in a radius of fifty million miles.

x X x

 **2.**

Ben Solo recovered from his injuries. Of course he did. All that was left of them after two days were twin scars at his chest and his back in the 'shape of two suns", as he merrily insisted. This much-too-quick and satisfying recovery was only partly owed however to the reluctant care of the people who would only have welcomed him with open arms if they had been allowed a dagger in each hand, but were in name responsible for patching him up. Their cooperation was largely due to the young woman with a lightsabre, a quarterstaff and the fierce aspect of some ancient goddess of war, who refused to leave his side even for a minute during all that time. She would sleep in a chair next to his stretcher, why, she even insisted to be present during the actual _surgery_ , which restored his lungs and some of those organs whose purpose no layman is ever quite sure of. And all the time, she kept her hand on top of the wound, or if she was unable to do so – as for example during surgery – she stubbornly insisted to hold his hand instead.

"It's the Force," she explained sagely. "It helps him to heal."

The medics observed them both with concern, a nagging suspicion in their minds that they had just saved the life of the next dark overlord. Or the present dark overlord? The state of affairs (or affairs of state?) wasn't entirely clear. The Republic had perished with the Hosnian system, the First Order was in tatters (the _Millennium Falcon's_ crew had made good use of the _Supremacy's_ command codes and seen to the auto-destruction of their entire fleet), there was no central government of any kind at this moment – by rights, chaos and anarchy should have been the order of the day. But they weren't. To most people's great surprise, life went on pretty much like it had before, and those who tried to seize the chance and usurp more power in their respective sphere of influence found that they were foiled by competent police forces. Governments may come and go, but capable administration perseveres. The galaxy had a chance to come to its breath and contemplate where to go to from this without ruffle or excitement.

In the hold of the _Millennium Falcon_ , Poe and Chewbacca, Rose and Finn (he had decided to stick with that name) were gathered round the chess table, as Poe thoughtfully looked at the small chip in its middle.

"What shall we do with this?"

"Throw it away," Finn replied. "The fleet is gone, so is the _Supremacy_. The info it carries is no longer worth anything."

"What are you talking about?" Rose objected. "These are the plans for the most powerful destroyer the galaxy has ever seen and one of its most dangerous weapons."

"Yes, exactly."

"There may come a time when we need that knowledge."

"But who is going to guard it in the meantime?" Poe asked of no one in particular, nibbling on his thumb nail as usual when he was tense.

Chewbacca answered like a shot, 'Rey.'

Yeah, it was the obvious answer, wasn't it – but then Finn objected, "If we give it to her, _he_ may get it."

Rose raised her eyebrows mockingly. " _He_ gave it to us in the first place."

"You know what I mean."

"No, actually I don't."

"The problem is," Poe inserted before there was another quarrel, "that the powers that be won't trust him."

"And with good reason!"

"Gosh, Finn, give it a rest. We all know you hate him –"

"And with good reason!"

Rose's eyebrows rose another fraction and became even more scornful, but she gave no further answer, which shamed Finn more than anything she could have said.

Poe sighed. "So what shall we do with him?"

"Let him go?" Rose suggested and braced herself for a level of outrage that didn't quite materialise.

"We can't, can we? I mean, he's Kylo bloody Ren."

"Yes, well, he's also Ben Solo, and he brought the First Order down almost single-handedly."

BB-8 made a protesting beep.

"Yes, yes, with help," Poe said with a dismissive gesture. "The woman's got a point though."

"The _point_ is purely academic," Finn threw in, shooting Rose a little smile. "Sorry, but it is. Rey won't allow a single hair on his head to be harmed, no matter what _we_ decide."

"Yes, but you must admit it's _great_ hair," Rose retorted with gleeful relish.

"The thing is," Poe suppressed a laugh and went on before Finn could go off on another tangent, "We _can't_ let him go. That would be a punch in the face of anybody who ever sacrificed anything for the cause."

They turned to Chewbacca who had listened in silence, but he just shook his head and shrugged. In him, the whole dilemma of the man they still usually referred to as 'Kylo Ren', was exemplified. Chewbacca would never forget the murder of his best friend at the hands of that man. But he also remembered the child that he had once been – so anxious to please, so disappointed, so full of talent and promise and confusion, earnest and dutiful much beyond his years and so heartbreakingly unhappy because he had never ever really quite fitted in. And then, after wiping out almost the entire Resistance and a couple of planets, the man had done another heel turn and sacrificed his life in order to do the right thing – and half the galaxy was willing to put good money on his head after he had just saved it. Chewbacca simply could not make up his mind about him.

x X x

 **3.**

Rose went to the infirmary every day, out of solicitude for Ben Solo's recovery, but chiefly in order to look after Rey. "So what's the verdict?" Ben asked her with a wry smile when next she came to visit.

"A verdict needs a trial."

"Oh, so I get one?"

She grinned. "The jury's still out on _that_."

"What trial?" Rey asked, all astonishment.

"War crimes," Ben retorted.

"What war crimes?"

"Mine. I'm a war criminal."

She gawked at him, and so to a lesser degree, did Rose, amazed by his calmness.

"But – but –"

"Rey, four days ago I was still _Supreme Leader_ of the _First Order_ , a terror organisation that blew up entire star systems. You know what we would have done, in a case like this? We'd have bombed not only this infirmary, but the whole city just to be on the safe side."

"But you turned against them."

"I don't think that'll keep me from being executed though."

" _What?!_ "

"I have enough blood on my hands to fill _oceans_ , Rey."

Without rancour but with all the more conviction, Rey turned to Rose, "You'll have to execute us both, then."

Rose remembered the blood on Rey's hand when Ben Solo had been wounded and cast a swift glance at the young woman's hand now as it hovered over his chest wound. "It would appear so."

Rey did not register the glance, but went on, "We're bound together. He dies, I die, it's as simple as that."

"Yes, well, they appreciate that. Somebody – and before you get all worked up about it, it's not anyone you or I would know, but some surviving senators – suggested to incarcerate him in a secret location deep in some salt mines without arms or legs," she cast an apologetic smirk at him, "and some droids to keep him alive."

He merely raised his eyebrows, but Rey exploded with the outrage of a young idealist faced with political contingencies for the first time in her life. It was the future amputee who managed to calm her down at last.

"How come everyone is making such a big hero out of Darth Vader," she mumbled with knitted brows and a pout, "for turning against the Emperor, but when _you_ do it –"

"Because Darth Vader died," Rose said matter-of-factly.

"So did he!"

"Yes, but then again, I'm still alive. Believe me, if Vader had survived, he might well have faced a firing squad, too."

"But it's not fair!"

"Don't you see, they _have_ to punish me, and at the same time they're afraid of me. Can't blame them for that, can you?"

"That's no excuse!"

"Perhaps not an excuse, but a valid reason."

"To cut off your arms and legs?!"

"You'll have to admit that would be a rather effective impediment to flight, or using a lightsabre."

"But you could just promise not to do that."

Rose frowned in mild disbelief, while he replied, "I'd rather not promise you that, because rotting away in a salt mine seems like a fate worse than death, and to be quite honest, I would seize the first chance I get to escape."

"I'd stay with you and keep you company."

"You'll do no such thing. You go and see the galaxy as you've always dreamt of."

"But…"

He turned to Rose. "Has it occurred to you that, with or without extremities, there are enough nutters out there who'd give their everything to find and free me?"

"Are you _trying_ to get executed?! Again?!"

"No, I'm just presenting you with the facts. No good to make a decision that doesn't encompass all the facts, is it?"

Rose left not long after this exchange.

"You were right about her, you know?"

Rey frowned. "Rose, you mean?"

"She _is_ quite wise."

And for some reason that Rey couldn't have pinpointed, this casual remark made her do a doubletake until sensing that he had already forgotten all about her friend. Only then, Rey really exhaled, took his hand and pressed it tightly.

x X x

 **4.**

On the very next day, the entire human crew of the _Millennium Falcon_ paid a visit to the infirmary and informed the medics in charge that they had come to take away their patient. The medics hesitated, muttering something about having received orders to keep him – but Poe wouldn't have it.

" _Do you know who I am?_ " he asked with a huff, urgently hoping he could keep a straight face.

"Actually –"

"I am Commander Dameron, leader of the Resistance," Poe boomed, imitating the voice of a particularly self-important flying instructor he had once known. "This is Captain Finn – you may have heard of him. This is Captain Tico, she flew the ship when we bombed the _Supremacy_. My people and I defeated the First Order without _any_ help from your government – or any other – and if I tell you I am going to take the prisoner with me, _I will take the prisoner with me_. Do I make myself clear?"

An elderly medic shrugged. "I don't suppose you'll fill out the necessary forms, will you?"

"I will if you have them ready to be signed within the next five minutes."

That did it. With a signature from Poe Dameron, nobody could blame the medics and that was good enough for them.

Soon after, they returned to the _Millennium Falcon_ , including Ben Solo, and left for an unknown destination. Poe deemed it safest, because – as little support as the Resistance had received during the First Order's actual reign, – _now_ there were a lot of political leaders all over the galaxy demanding Kylo Ren's head on a titanium plate and offering millions to get it.

The vote for this course of action had been – astonishingly! – unanimous, in other words, even Finn and Chewbacca had agreed, which secretly pleased Rose and Poe, but seemed a matter of course for C-3PO.

"Master Ben is coming back," he trilled, hectically waving his arms. "Chewbacca! Master Ben –"

The Wookiee roared something which Rose interpreted as an offer to rip off the droid's hand and push it into his mouthpiece. R2-D2 reached out a claw and led his scandalised friend away before anything else could happen.

x X x

 **5.**

Rey and Ben spent the chief of their days in the _Falcon's_ hull, brooding over the sacred Jedi texts that she had salvaged ('stolen,' he would tease her whenever it came up, 'you can just admit you've _stolen_ them') and practising together, resembling some over-eager pupils burning midnight oil to advance with their subjects, excited by the possibilities, thrilled by their own progress as much as the other one's.

Within no time, the girl was capable of shooting lightning sparks from her fingers, he could put his fist through solid objects without breaking them and project himself over short distances without breaking into a sweat. It spooked out the other crew members to no end.

"I really wish she'd stop doing that," Finn said, staring at the spot where Rey had just appeared out of thin air for ten seconds cheerfully waving at them before shooting her blaster, stopping the shot instantly and deflagrating it like miniature fireworks, before disappearing as she had come.

"If only they'd do what any couple their age as inseparable as them would do alone in a darkened room," Poe mumbled, "instead of all this mumbo-jumbo. But the thought doesn't seem to have occurred to either of them, does it? They're like – children, somehow."

"So maybe it's not what it looks like," Finn said eagerly.

Rose got up and left, and as soon as she was gone, Poe turned to the young man, head-shaking. "And as I was talking about ignorant children – you are an idiot, my dear boy. Stop mooning for what you can't have –"

"But you just said yourself that –"

"Oh come on! You're worth more than that."

Finn's eyes narrowed dangerously as he hissed, "Rey is worth anything and everything –"

"Yes! She's a grand girl. I wasn't talking about _her_ , I was talking about _you_. You _must_ see that you could _never_ be to her what he is. Would you really contend yourself with always being only second, while that other guy practically lives in her head?! If you are, you're an even bigger idiot than I thought." Finn's mouth dropped open, but Poe was on a roll and went on relentlessly, "Meanwhile, there's this other fabulous girl whose feelings you trample on however much you like."

"What are you even talking about?"

"For heaven's sake, how many girls do you know – on total!"

"What?"

Poe threw his hands in the air and got up, too. "Oh, to be young again, and utterly stupid!"

Chewbacca laughed. 'How old are you then, you old geezer? Thirty? Thirty-two?'

"But I've never been that stupid!" Poe retorted over his shoulder, already out of the door.

x X x

 **6.**

It was pretty much part of Rose's job description on the _Falcon_ to act as an intermediary, for the simple reason that neither of the men or C-3PO could be trusted with that task. They had a tendency to put their foot in their mouths.

She had climbed down into the hull and discreetly knocked on the door to the storeroom which Rey and Ben Solo usually used for training. But since she heard strange noises and moaning, she turned on her heel to get back upstairs, when she heard the door unseal behind her.

"What is it?" Rey asked brightly, still gasping for breath.

"It's nothing – I'll come back later," Rose mumbled in deadly embarrassment, standing stock-still.

"I can't hear you, turn around!"

Despite herself Rose did just that – and frowned. Panting and covered in sweat Rey might be, but also very fully clothed and holding Ben Solo's red lightsabre. She risked another peek through the door, only to see that he was in much the same state, twirling Rey's staff with some virtuosity.

"What the heck are you doing?" Rose asked and could have slapped herself.

"Oh, Ben wanted to have a go with his grandfather's old sword." She turned her head to him with a grin. "So I see to it he gets a good hiding with his own."

"Hey! It's only twelve to ten!" came his voice from the background.

"You're – fighting? With your actual lightsabres?!"

Rey smiled uncomprehendingly. "Yeah. So what did you come for?"

"Ah! Yes." Rose licked her lips a little nervously. "Yes, you see – we'll be very close to Jakku soon…"

Rey waited for more to come, but when it didn't, she quipped, "And now you want my recommendations for a little day trip? Well, my recommendation is – don't stop there at all. It's _the_ most boring place in the entire universe, if you're not seriously into sand, that is."

"It's also a planet without any connections to either the First Order, or the Republic, or the Resistance, and would be quite a good place to lie low," Rose forced herself to say.

"And excellent for being buried alive. You don't mean to say we _really_ want to go – let alone _stay_ – there."

" _We_ don't…"

Rose was spared any further awkwardness as Ben joined them. "It's okay, Rose. Tell them – tell them I got it. Please."

"You got what?" Rey asked with a frown.

"The message. The memo. Whatever you want to call it."

"What message?"

"Your friends have been really hospitable, but they can't ferry me across the galaxy forever, can they? I'll get off at Jakku."

"You'll do no such thing."

"No, I really think I will."

Finding that her company was no longer necessary (or noticed), Rose shuffled backwards, then almost ran back upstairs.

"But I don't want to go back to Jakku," Rey moaned.

"Well, where do you want to go?"

"Everywhere! I want to see Hanna City, and Mon Cala and Kashyyyk and Coruscant and Corellia and Gatalenta and…"

He nodded slowly and sadly. "Yeah. You should."

"But – but you're not coming with me, are you?"

"No."

"So then I won't go either."

"Nonsense! You've spent far too long cooped up in one place."

"But I don't want to – I can't… It'd be no fun without you."

"Oh, claptrap!"

"I'm serious! I'd much rather stay with you on Jakku than see the galaxy all by myself."

They exchanged a long, affectionate glance that made either feel the other one's heartbreak. Ben broke away first. "You know what? We'll fight for it. Whoever wins gets to decide."

Her eyes sparkled, and no longer because she was on the verge of tears. "Deal. Three out of five?"

x X x

 **7.**

He won at three to two, six to four, seventeen to fourteen and thirty-three to twenty-seven. Rey still didn't want to give up, but they both were so exhausted by then, they could scarcely lift a finger, let alone a sword.

"You go and travel until you've got enough of it. And I'll see what Jakku's got to offer."

"That's not much. You'll get through all major sights in one day. Crashed destroyers, mainly. And they're a bit of an acquired taste."

They were lying spread-eagle on their backs, ear to ear, trying to get their breath back.

"Well, when I've got enough, I might move on to Hoth for a change of scenery."

"How do you propose to get there?"

"What do you suppose, hitchhiking? I'll take a ship."

She grinned broadly. " _Steal_ a ship, you mean?"

"I mean no such thing, obviously." He grinned as well. "I will _borrow_ a ship, and send it back later."

"You do know that the owner could then trace back the ship's course, right?"

"But it won't matter, because by then I'll be long gone."

"How? With another borrowed ship?"

"Possibly."

"So basically you're just laying out a trace of proverbial breadcrumbs all across the galaxy."

"No. At some point, I am going to buy myself a ship."

"And what sort of skill set do you reckon you possess that would enable you to earn enough money to pay for a glider, let alone a ship fit to navigate space?"

"You seem doubtful."

"I am. I'd even go so far and suggest you ignore your moral code for long enough to just steal a ship and keep it."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How do you propose to travel?"

"I haven't really thought about it… I could sign on some freighter, couldn't I?"

"What – not steal one?"

She sniggered. "I won't see much of the galaxy once I'm in jail, don't you think?"

"They'd never catch you."

She laughed some more, then turned to lie on her stomach in order to better see him, suddenly anxious once more. "You'll wait for me, right?"

"What do _you_ think?"

She smiled. "You'll wait for me."

x X x

 **8.**

Rey and Ben had said their goodbyes in the storeroom, where she remained once he went up to see the others. They both agreed it was better this way, or they might break out in tears after all.

He thanked them for their help and what was more, their trust, fiercely hugged C-3PO, almost dislocating that one's arm (the last time they'd done this, Ben had been two feet shorter still) and beat a little goodbye melody on R2-D2's hull. Chewbacca wasn't among them, which did not come as a surprise. All the more astonished was he when he found the Wookiee loitering in front of the escape pod, and for a second he wondered if his father's best friend had come in order to finish what he hadn't quite managed on Starkiller Base.

He did nothing of the kind, but stretched out his hand. 'Take good care of yourself, squirt.'

'Likewise, hairball.'

'Next time I see you, I'll rip your head off.'

'Fair enough.'

Chewbacca still hadn't let go of his hand and suddenly pulled him into a hug. Ben was tall, but his face still only reached to the Wookiee's chest as that one tousled his hair. He smelled of wet fur, machine oil and Ben's childhood. 'Your parents would have been very proud of you, squirt.'

Damn it. He'd managed to keep the tears at bay all the time.

x X x

 **9.**

Poe, Finn, Rose, C-3PO and Chewbacca observed the pod sailing away in silence, becoming smaller and smaller until it was no longer visible on the backdrop of the glaring desert sands of Jakku.

Then they heard loud steps fast approaching, and a second later Rey dashed into the cockpit. "Get down there," she cried, and since nobody seemed to understand her, she repeated with urgency, "Get down there! Follow him! _Please!_ "

Poe raised his eyebrows. "Frankly, my dear, I'm glad we got rid of him without much more fuss."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll stay rid of him. Now _please_ get a move on!"

"And how are we supposed to find him? No. Don't say it. Let me guess – you just _know_ , right?"

"Yeah. Come on now!"

"What's the hurry? If you _know_ –"

"Will you stop arguing?" Rose threw in. "In fact, it's a good idea. It'll look as if we had tried to pursue him once we discovered his escape. Just in case anyone should be upset about that."

"Just in case?" Poe replied, but settled in the pilot's seat all the same. "Geez, if it was one of my men 'losing' damned Kylo Ren, he'd be demoted to clean the privies for the rest of his life. If he didn't get court-martialled and shot in the first place."

"His name is Ben," Rey said, but was ignored.

"You agreed we should let him go, Poe," Rose said.

"Because it's the right thing to do, and there'll be enough people of sense in high places who'll understand – but it'll be awkward to say the least."

"But now we're _following_ him so that's okay," Rose said brightly, then turned to Rey. "Are you – you're really sure?"

"One hundred percent sure."

As he set the _Falcon's_ course, Poe shook his head. "How you can carry a torch for _Kylo Bloody Ren_ is truly beyond me."

"His name is Ben!"

"Never mind that! How you can have a crush on the guy, that's what _I'd_ like to know."

"I don't have a crush on him."

"Really? Because it surely looks that way."

"I don't care what it may look like."

"Yes, that's usually one of the symptoms."

She shook her head impatiently. "I can imagine it's hard to understand, but – we share a bond, don't you see?"

"Haven't heard _that_ one before, either," he replied drily. Rose bit her lips to keep herself from smiling, but Chewbacca laughed out loud.

"You're all being silly," Rey grumbled, then forgot all about them as she followed Ben's descent in her mind.

x X x

 **10.**

They watched her plodding through the sands until she was out of sight behind a dune before returning to the _Falcon's_ cockpit and taking off again.

"You think we'll ever see her again?" Rose asked hoarsely, accompanied by mournful beeps from BB-8.

Poe grinned. "Sure. The girl's unstoppable. What _I_ wonder is when she'll finally realise what a damned fool she is."

"What do you mean?"

He raised his brows suggestively. "Oh come on, you _know_. _Everyone_ knows. It's as obvious as daylight. And sooner or later even those two may figure it out after all."

Rose laughed loudly, why, even Finn chuckled.

'Where to now?' Chewbacca asked, his paws poised over the navigational instruments.

They looked at each other. "Takodana? For a start?"

"Sounds good to me," Poe said. "I could really do with a stiff drink."

"Uh, Rose?" Finn asked a little later, scratching his nose nervously. "About that drink…"

"What about it?"

"I – erm – I thought we could have it together."

She frowned, puzzled. "But we will, won't we?"

"No, I mean – just you – and me."

Her puzzlement grew to downright bewilderment. "What?"

He wrung his hands. "What I mean to say, really – well – I wondered – I wondered if you'd like to go out sometime – with me…"

She goggled at him for a second, then jumped to her feet and thundered, "You have to be kidding me!"

"What? No, I –"

" _She's barely out of the door!_ What do you take me for?! I'm not going to be your stopgap, you – you – moof-milker!"

She stomped out, with both Finn and Poe staring after her.

"You may have to work on your technique there, kid," Poe commented drily, but Finn didn't hear him. Her furious face, her blazing eyes were indelibly burnt into his retinas, and while this might have appeared like an exceptionally bad start, he thought with a pleasant little flutter that she _must_ like him a bit, or she wouldn't have reacted so stung, right? Well, small fires could be stoked up to become all-consuming conflagrations and he was nothing if not patient.

x X x

 **11.**

She trudged through the sands, delighted to feel his presence closer and closer, and mildly amused to know that he had been on this planet for ten minutes and already gotten into a fight. For once, it wasn't his fault. She knew the sort of blokes he'd run into – they'd draw their blasters on the drop of a hat, let alone the apparition of a stranger dismounting an escape pod. She was glad that he hadn't killed any of the guys but simply disarmed them, and when they still wouldn't let off, he had let them run into each other and topple in a heap on the ground.

'Well done. Also a great way to keep a low profile.'

'I'm open for suggestions. Also – what are you doing here?'

'I've changed my mind.'

'But I beat you fair and square.'

'Yes, well, what can I say. I'm a cheater.'

'Rey, you mustn't –'

'When will you get it into your head, Ben Solo? I'll have nobody tell me what to do. Not even you.'

'As if I didn't know that.'

'Do you really want me to leave again?'

'Absolutely not. I need you to help me steal a ship. You were right, this place is awful.'

She chuckled and made it over the final dune before he came into view, surrounded by unconscious thugs and looking rather puzzled. She ran the last hundred yards, which was not easy in the deep, powdery sand, and he came towards her to meet her. She threw her arms around him as if they hadn't parted less than half an hour ago and he returned the embrace with just as much ardour, but then the dune suddenly blew over and collapsed, almost burying them in the sand.

"You've come," he said incredulously.

"I have. After all no one knows better than I do what it's like to be lonely and stuck on Jakku."

"So –"

"So I figured that not many people know your face. You've mostly been wearing that darned mask."

"There are a lot of people who know me from way back though. Plus all the soldiers from the _Supremacy_ who managed to evacuate."

"Well, we needn't visit Coruscant or Chandrila or any of those places, do we? There are _millions_ of planets out there, not even you can be notorious on all of them."

Head tilted, he contemplated her as her wild fantasies of faraway worlds washed through her mind as well as his own, fiery red oceans of fire, caves filled with eerie blue mists, trees as tall as skyscrapers and populated by strange birds, beaches of sparkling emeralds instead of sand, forests of lilacs and planes of freshly fallen snow.

"You _do_ like snow and colours, don't you?"

"Take a look around. Jakku is just one big variation on the topic of hot yellow."

He grinned. "I may know just the place to start. For that, however, we do need a proper ship with a hyperdrive."

And she knew a couple of likely candidates that would fit that bill, merely half buried, if only they could find the necessary parts to fix them…

"Or," he sighed, "we could just steal one."

"Bravo!"

The thugs offered no resistance when they probed their minds for such a ship, and not three hours later, they took off, whooping and celebrating.

x X x


	14. Epilogue

**XIV. Epilogue**

* * *

 **1\. Rey and Ben go and see the galaxy…**

 _I loved you before I was born.  
It doesn't make sense, I know._

 _I saw your eyes before I had eyes to see.  
And I've lived longing  
for your ever look ever since._

 _LI-YOUNG LEE – I Loved You Before I Was Born_

Their first port of call was Limaka, a small planet with extreme temperature swings, below thirty at night with tons and tons of snow, and forty degrees at day melting it all away again, humid and misty and brimming over with lush plants of every imaginable colour. They had midnight snowball fights, dozed under gigantic leaves at noon and went swimming in hot pools of crystal-clear water. Rey was so enthralled that they delayed their departure two or three times, but her appetite was whetted for more and after some weeks they left and went to J88 Beta, a most inhospitable planet which boasted 37 moons more than worth the journey.

"It seems as if they were dancing all around us, don't you think?"

The thought hadn't occurred to him before, but infected by her enthusiasm, he suddenly saw it too.

"Have you ever danced?"

"Good heavens, no. You?"

"Not really. I don't think it counts as dancing."

"Now you've made me curious."

So she showed him her memories of the only cantina in Niima Outpost boasting a music box. It had been not much more than a dirty hole in the ground where desperate people got unspeakably drunk, but she had liked the music, and sometimes, people had danced. Hidden away in a dark corner, she had given it a try, too, but had whirled around so hard that she had lost her balance, crashed into a pile of crates – and been kicked out ten seconds later.

She smiled with the recollection, but found him gaping at her. "That was _you_?"

"What?"

"That little girl in this memory – about that high, freckles, button nose – that was you, right?"

"I can't see myself in my own memories, can I? But there certainly was no other little girl, so I reckon it must have been me. Why?"

"I knew it! I always, always knew it! I knew your face was familiar!"

"What are you talking about?"

So he told her about the recurring dreams he had had for almost as long as he could remember, of some strange child that he was sure he had never seen outside of a dream. At some point, he had simply assumed she was a symbol of the Force, because he had started dreaming of her around that time that it had truly awakened in him.

"How old where you then?"

"Four."

"But I was barely born then. I mean – I surely didn't look like – however I did look." (She had never looked into a mirror before she was sixteen or so, and that had been a coincidence.)

He closely observed her face. "Nevertheless. I _know_ it was you. Your eyes haven't changed at all."

She contemplated this and got an idea, so she showed him a memory of one of her dreams of her little rebel pilot. "Recognise him?"

He laughed. "Why, yes. That's me. Ada got the jumpsuit from somewhere – I wanted to be a pilot and wore it all the time…"

"Ha! That is my little rebel pilot," she answered. " _You_ were my little rebel pilot! I always wondered why he was so short and why his helmet was so huge."

"The model for your doll?"

"You remember that?"

"Of course."

"I've dreamt of him – of you – so often. When things got rough, my little rebel pilot always pulled me through, he – _you_ – would just fly away from all worries and take me with you."

"You did the same for me," he said quietly. She could sense his movement, which was echoed in his smile. "I am so happy you came for me."

"So am I…" She shot him a broad grin. "What do you think – shall we dance?"

"I don't think I can dance."

"How hard can it be? Come on."

"In here?"

She looked around the rather narrow cockpit – the hold wasn't much bigger either, and the ship's storerooms were too low for him to stand in. So she suggested they put on masks and go outside.

"We haven't even got music," he objected weakly.

"What's it matter! Those moons have no music either, and still they're dancing!"

Outside, she snatched his hands and they started whirling around merrily, faster and faster, harder and harder, giggling and gasping, until a sudden rift in the ground prompted their instant take-off.

x X x

 **2\. …And Realise Their Full Potential…**

 _What do you think has become of the young and old men?  
What do you think has become of the women and  
children?_

 _They are alive and well somewhere;  
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,  
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait  
at the end to arrest it,  
And ceased the moment life appeared._

 _All goes onward and outward... and nothing collapses,  
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and  
luckier._

 _WALT WHITMAN – A child said, What is the grass?_

This may be the right moment to mention the fate of some of the other people they'd met. Captain Peavey and his crew had collectively evacuated from their stations before the _Supremacy_ blew up. He became captain on a cruise liner, while Lieutenant Mitaka joined his homeworld's diplomatic corps, Lieutenant Draxo became a technical consultant with the successor organisation of Sienar-Jaemus and Sub-Lieutenant Karver followed his true calling and joined a band. Udu-u teamed up with Snaps and Nath, together they founded a telecommunication company. Bixby on the other hand threw his training to the wind and eventually became a croupier in Coruscant's most prestigious casino. Meanwhile, Sub-Lieutenant Egolu became a cook.

It should be noted that Ben and Rey didn't _just_ idly journey through the galaxy. They also spent lots of time with the ancient Jedi texts, by and by deciphering their hidden secrets, and practised what they always called 'old Jedi tricks' even though they invented most of them themselves.

Some of these tricks allowed them to visit all those places that Ben couldn't have dared to go to otherwise for the legions of dedicated bounty hunters, be it because he altered his appearance to a degree that made him absolutely unrecognisable (his favourite was his disguise as an elderly Mon Calamari, hers a Patitite which she could carry around in her pocket), or because Rey simply projected or teleported there, which soon cost her no more serious effort at all as long as Ben kept on holding her hands during the process, adding his strength and keeping her in balance.

Because the ghost of Luke Skywalker, steeped in the Force as he was,

Rey often used her ability to project in order to see her friends which over time became his as well. He saw them often enough when looking in on Chewbacca and C-3PO. As a matter of fact, Chewbacca and Poe, Finn and Rose had gone and used the _Millennium Falcon_ to establish a flourishing import/export business ("go on, call it what it is," Ben commented with a grin when she first told him, "they're _smugglers_. No need to mince words.") based in Takodana.

After a while, the bounty hunters ceased to be a problem; they had defeated all of them with ever increasing ease, style even, which served as much as a deterrent as the fact that those offering a fortune for his head began losing interest, and the sums to be got became lower and lower – not worthwhile losing an arm for, that is. This gave them far greater freedom of movement, which was helpful as every now and then, their intervention was called for.

They were happy to see that, all in all, the galaxy seemed to have found some modus vivendi that finally allowed for peace, stability, unity and progress, and that the laws he had spent so much time on devising had prevailed in most inhabited worlds. They were even known as the Laws of Solo – a reference to Leia Organa Solo, in fact, who would have been very satisfied with them indeed.

But sometimes some scoundrels took it into their heads regardless to get more cake than they should, so to speak, and if they couldn't be kept at bay otherwise, Rey and Ben put matters right, swiftly, effectively, and with far more wisdom than each of them would have possessed individually, because together, they were much more than the sum of their parts.

They still fought, but without anger or bitterness. If one could read what was going through the other one's head as well as the feelings in their hearts, it was inevitable to reach an amicable conclusion, since there could be no misunderstandings, no repressed anger or hurt, only a rational and benevolent weighing of the circumstances that took the other's point of view as much into account as one's own.

x X x

 **3\. … And Something Else Entirely**

 _I don't think Home's a place anymore. I think it's a state of mind._

 _BARBIE – Sandman_

It had taken quite a number of strange weather phenomena, inexplicable natural disasters and three or four ceilings crashing down before Ben and Rey had realised that sometimes something strange happened when they touched. They had learnt to control it to a certain degree, even make good use of it, for example for safe teleportation. When they danced, full-grown trees would pop out of the ground on otherwise barren planets, spring tides suddenly surge through dry-as-dust deserts, planets spontaneously change their rate of rotation only to afford them the sight of a spectacular sunset or dawn.

They were watching one of those now, the fingers of her left hand tightly entwined with his right, marvelling at the twin suns slowly emerging over the horizon of the otherwise quite dreary planet of Patoch and painting the sky in a gorgeous palette of golden oranges, husky pinks and lavender.

"No matter how often I see it – I still think it's breathtaking."

"It is."

"Don't you think it's breathtaking?"

"I do. I just said so."

She turned towards him, her head tilted. "Yes, but I can tell your mind's not quite in it."

He found that she was right, but that it wasn't the beautiful dawn that was at fault here. He had simply been distracted.

'Distracted by what though?'

He couldn't really say, all the more when her gaze bored into his, with the suns' golden-red reflections glowing in her luminous eyes, which were absorbing him with the power of black holes and sapping him of any rational thought. The suns, as if appreciating that a whole planet had changed its course for them to be admired, did their all to appear to best advantage but were no longer much noticed by either of the two spectators.

Every day, every minute that Ben and Rey had spent together had closer aligned their minds, so much so that they only spoke for the pleasure of hearing the other one's voice, not because it was any longer necessary. Therefore Rey knew that – while considering himself the happiest creature in all the galaxies – there was _something_ that he still wanted; she felt exactly the same vague need in herself, and was just as clueless about it.

'Come on. What is it?'

He smiled faintly. 'But you know that I don't know.'

'But how can that be? You always _know_ everything.' They both chuckled. 'What is it that you want, Ben Solo?'

"For a start, I'd be content if this moment never ended," he said, unaware that the planet Patoch obliged and stopped rotating altogether, only so a young man could keep on admiring the reflections of two rising suns in the eyes of a young woman. "And you? What do you want?"

She was as arrested by the look in his black eyes as he was by hers; they had always had that effect on her, even when she had first seen his face in an interrogation cell, before she had discovered their true gentleness, their sparkling splendour when he laughed, before she had understood that he had a special smile reserved for no one else but her which made his gaze brim over with affection and adoration.

Not thinking twice (suddenly there was no need to think twice), she replied, "You."

"But you already have me." He shot her a grin. "You had me the first time you fired a blaster at me."

Well, yes – and _no_. She had suddenly become aware of his presence in a way she had never really consciously registered before, the heat radiating from his body, his scent that reminded her of snow and rain and forests and the sea, the fact that he was so tall that she had to crane her neck in order to look into his face when he was standing so close, the fact that the hairs on her arms and in the small of her neck seemed electrified and her skin tingled just by looking at him, looking at these mesmerising eyes, looking at that soft mouth that always seemed a little pouty even when he was smiling like now. She raised his hand to brush her lips against his knuckles, whispering, " _All_ of you."

The sensation this caused him wiped the grin off and thoroughly bowled him over, she could tell; to be quite honest, she wasn't any less befuddled, all the more when her eyes once more found his with the well-established dazzling effect this inevitably had on her. Without any conscious thought of what she was doing, she gave in to impulse and drew him closer, then slung her free arm around his neck and pulled his face down to her.

'What are you waiting for? Kiss me already!' she thought and startled, he obliged as a matter of course, faintly wondering why the idea hadn't occurred to him before. It seemed so perfectly obvious all of a sudden.

At the other end of the galaxy – on Tatooine, to be precise – an out-of-control class 5 freighter crashed into the ground, demonstrating the results of the age-old experiment in which an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object. Ben was thunderstruck by the sensation of a thousand bolts of lightning striking him through the magnificent woman before him as he pressed his mouth against her mellow lips, liquefying his entire body and fusing them together as completely as their minds already were. The happily unpopulated ice planet Hoth 16 went through a sudden, unprecedented and very, very speedy phase of global warming which melted all its glaciers and was the reason for Hoth 16 henceforth being known as an oceanic planet. Meanwhile on Hoth 2, and since we're speaking of glaciers, a couple of massive ice shields broke off due to the innocent machinations of two infamous butterflies (between them, they had caused uncounted thunderstorms, none of which they had any idea of). In Mos Eisley, the heretofore universally unsuccessful composer Ela Xool was struck by an inspiration so powerful that the resulting opus ' _Twilight of the Gods_ ' would be played eons after Xool's death still. Due to an enormous fluke in its plate tectonics, the planet Kaller witnessed the birth of a brand-new yet instantaneously colossal mountain range rising out of a formerly level landscape and changing not only the planet's face forever but also its weather systems and future tourist trade. On Sotol, the single, gigantic bud of the eponymous Sotol flower, which blooms only once every century, jumped its natural schedule and spontaneously unfolded its petals, blossomed and craned towards the two suns in the skies above. The planet Mustafar began shaking under a series of earthquakes so forceful that they moved the planet's axis about 18 degrees. Underneath the now forever rising suns of Patoch, Rey couldn't have told where her own body ended and his began, a state exacerbated by the force with which he pulled her against himself and with which she pressed against him in turn. On Hoth 2, the broken-off ice accelerated with rapid speed and grew in mass and volume into avalanches of unheard-of proportions, razing anything in their way. In the opera house of Coruscant, after hours of laborious practise, famous conductor R.V. Amahan perished on a note of perfect happiness, unnoticed by any member of his orchestra as they finally reached the purest harmony ever heard. Aboard the abandoned star destroyer _Endeavour_ , the dormant hyperspeed reactor inexplicably initiated a chain-reaction of cold fusion. The grounds trembled on Patoch as Ben didn't only experience the most earth-shaking sensation _he_ had ever felt, which were multiplied to boundlessness because he also felt _her_ feelings of dissolving underneath his touch, his caresses, the minutest of his every move while her mind tapped his and was infected by his rapture on top of her own and vice versa to the power of infinite. The orange skies over Yon Lo M'non 2 turned dark blue and were illuminated by millions of shooting stars, an event so startling to the unevolved inhabitants that it was the beginning of a cult. Aboard the abandoned star destroyer _Endeavour_ , the hyperspeed reactor's cold fusion reached critical mass, emitting frenzied warning signals that were heard by absolutely no one. Hoth 16, suddenly landed with a gigantic ocean fed by more and more melting ice, saw the first (of many) colossal tsunamis in its history which rose to a height of one hundred metres and swallowed everything in its way for ten thousands of kilometres. In the Omega-Transame system, every single star died, resulting in a never before seen series of majestic supernovae, an extended and brilliant event that could be observed with the naked eye through half of the galaxy, including on Patoch – where it remained utterly unperceived. On Ivarujar one hundred and twenty-one volcanoes spit lava bombs into the darkened skies before erupting in earnest. Aboard the abandoned star destroyer _Endeavour_ , the hyperspeed reactor detonated so violently that some of its pieces would later be found on planets six light years away. In the R77-81B system, the titanic twin suns which had circled each other since the beginning of time, crashed into each other. Far, far away from any known galaxy, a singularity popped into existence and went off with a big bang. And back on Patoch, on the verge of losing consciousness Rey sank onto the chest of her equally exhausted lover who enfolded her in his arms with the last morsels of strength he possessed.

Later, though she couldn't have guessed whether it were minutes or millennia, still panting and burying her face in his hair as she was weakly nibbling on his earlobe, she whispered without speaking, ' _Now_ we _both_ know!'

He just laughed and tightened his embrace on her. There was no need to answer because she was in his mind as much as he was in hers – both of which were perfectly aligned in this moment, radiant and resonant like a note hanging in the air after a celestial chord was plucked. Neither of them had read the sort of books which would have informed them that right about now was the perfect time to _finally_ swear undying love, but it didn't matter because one only needs to say so if there is no better way of conveying the message, and with the same certainty with which she knew that she had two eyes and a nose in her face, Rey knew for a fact that he had waited his whole life for her and would never ever leave her again and that he needed her to be complete as he needed air to breathe, just as there was not the shadow of a doubt in Ben's soul that she was finally at home, that he was the belonging she had always been so desperate to discover. There was no need to say anything, really, but worlds to be born and suns to perish. And while they never had any children during their endlessly long lives, they begot countless universes.

x X x

 _October knew, of course, that the action of turning a page, of ending a chapter or of shutting a book, did not end a tale._

 _Having admitted that, he would also avow that happy endings were never difficult to find: "It is simply a matter," he explained to April, "of finding a sunny place in a garden, where the light is golden and the grass is soft; somewhere to rest, to stop reading, and to be content."_

 _NEIL GAIMAN – Sandman_

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading, I'd be chuffed if you let me know how you liked it.**_


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